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THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


FROM  THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
DR.  J.  LLOYD  EATON 


PABO,  THE  PRIEST 


PABO,  THE  PRIEST 


:2l  I^'otjel 


S.  BARING  GOULD 


\'- 


Author  of  "  Domitia,"  "The  Broom-Squire,"  "Bladys," 
"  Mehalah,"  Etc. 


•s 


NEW   YORK 

FREDERICK  A.  STOKES  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  iSgg, 
By  Frederick  A.  Stokes  Company 


CONTENTS 


Chapter  page 

I.  Gerald i 

II.  Nest 14 

III.  The  Seven  Degrees 23 

IV.  A  HWYL 38 

V.  The  First  Blood 48 

VI.  The  Scroll 58 

VII.  Griffith  of  Rhys 66 

VIII.  Preparing  for  the  Evil  Day .     74 

IX.  What  Must  Be 83 

X.  The  Cell  on  Mallaen 93 

XL  A  Miracle 104 

XII.  GORONWY 117 

XIII.  It  Must  be  Maintained 1 29 

XIV.  The  Fall  of  the  Lot 140 

XV.  Two  Pebbles 152 

XVI.  A  Summons 162 

XVII.  Betrayed 172 

XVIII.  Careg  Cennex J83 

XIX.  Forgotten 194 

XX.  The  Bracelet  of  Maxen 206 

XXI.  Sanctuary 217 

XXII.  In  Ogofau 228 

XXIII.  AuRi  Moles  Pr/egrandis 238 

XXIV.  The  Pylgain  of  Dyfed 251 

XXV.  The  White  Ship 261 


PABO,   THE    PRIEST 


CHAPTER  I 

GERALD 


King  Henry  sat  in  a  great  chair  with  a  pillow 
under  each  arm,  and  one  behind  his  head  resting 
on  the  lofty  chair-back.  He  was  unwell,  uncom- 
fortable, irritable. 

In  a  large  wickerwork  cage  at  the  further 
end  of  the  room  was  a  porcupine.  It  had  been 
sent  him  as  a  present  by  the  King  of  Denmark. 

Henry  Beauclerk  was  fond  of  strange  animals, 
and  the  princes  that  desired  his  favor  humored 
him  by  forwarding  such  beasts  and  birds  as  they 
considered  to  be  rare  and  quaint. 

The  porcupine  was  a  recent  arrival,  and  it  in- 
terested the  King  as  a  new  toy,  and  drew  his 
thoughts  away  from  himself. 


2  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

He  had  occasion  to  be  irritable.  His  leech  had 
ordered  him  to  eat  salt  pork  only. 

By  his  hand,  on  the  table,  stood  a  ewer  and  a 
basin,  and  ever  and  anon  Henry  poured  water 
out  of  the  ewer  into  the  basin,  and  then  with  a 
huge  wooden  spoon  ladled  the  liquid  back  into 
the  receiver.  The  reason  of  the  proceeding  was 
this— 

He  had  for  some  time  been  troubled  with  some 
internal  discomfort — not  serious,  but  annoying ; 
one  which  we,  nowadays,  would  interpret  very 
differently  from  the  physicians  of  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury. We  should  say  that  he  was  suffering  from 
dyspepsia  ;  but  the  Court  leech,  who  diagnosed 
the  condition  of  the  King,  explained  it  in  other 
fashion. 

He  said  that  Henry  had  inadvertently  drunk 
water  that  contained  the  spawn  of  a  salamander. 
It  had  taken  many  months  for  the  spawn  to 
develop  into  a  sort  of  tadpole,  and  the  tadpole  to 
grow  into  a  salamander.  Thus  the  reptile  had 
attained  large  size,  and  was  active,  hungry,  and 
rampageous.  Beauclerk  had  a  spotted  salamander 
within  him,  which  could  not  be  extracted  by  a 
forceps,  as  it  was  out  of  reach  ;  it  could  not  be 
poisoned,  as  that  medicament  which  would   kill 


GERALD  3 

the  brute  might  also  kill  the  King.  It  must, 
therefore,  be  cajoled  to  leave  its  prison.  Unless 
this  end  were  achieved  the  son  of  the  Conqueror 
of  England  would  succumb  to  the  ravages  of  this 
internal  monster. 

The  recipe  prescribed  was  simple,  and  com- 
mended itself  to  the  meanest  intelligence.  Henry 
was  to  eat  nothing  but  highly  salted  viands,  and 
was  to  drink  neither  wine,  water,  nor  ale.  How- 
ever severely  he  might  suffer  from  thirst  he  could 
console  himself  with  the  reflection  that  the  suf- 
ferings of  the  salamander  within  him  were  greater 
— a  poor  comfort,  yet  one  that  afforded  a  meas- 
ure of  relief  to  a  man  of  a  vindictive  mind. 

Not  only  was  he  to  eat  salt  meat,  but  he  was 
also  to  cause  the  splash  of  water  to  be  heard  in  his 
insides.  Therefore  he  was  to  pour  water  forwards 
and  backwards  between  the  ewer  and  the  basin  ; 
and  this  was  to  be  done  with  gaping  mouth,  so  that 
the  sound  might  reach  the  reptile,  and  the  salaman- 
der would  at  length  be  induced  to  ascend  the  throat 
of  the  monarch  and  make  for  the  basin,  so  as  to 
drink.  Immediately  on  the  intruder  leaving  the 
body  of  the  King,  Henry  was  to  snap  it  up  with 
a  pair  of  tongs,  laid  ready  to  hand,  and  to  cast  it 
into  the  fire. 


4  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

Although  the  season  was  summer  and  the 
weather  was  warm,  there  burned  logs  on  the 
hearth,  emitting  a  brisk  blaze. 

There  were  in  the  room  in  the  palace  of  West- 
minster others  besides  the  King  and  the  im- 
prisoned salamander.  Henry  had  sent  into  South 
Wales  for  Gerald  de  Windsor  and  his  wife  Nest. 
These  two  were  now  in  the  chamber  with  the  sick 
King. 

"  There,  Nest,"  said  he,  "  look  at  yon  beast. 
Study  it  well.  It  is  called  a  porcupine.  Plinius 
asserts — I  think  it  is  Plinius — that  when  angered 
he  sets  all  his  quills  in  array  and  launches  one  at 
the  eyes  of  such  as  threaten  or  assail  him.  There- 
fore, when  I  approach  the  cage,  I  carry  a  bolster 
before  me  as  a  buckler." 

"  Prithee,  Sire,  when  thou  didst  go  against  the 
Welsh  last  year,  didst  thou  then  as  well  wear  a 
bolster?" 

"  Ah,"  said  the  King,  "you  allude  to  the  arrow 
that  was  aimed  at  me,  and  which  would  have 
transfixed  me  but  for  my  hauberk.  That  was 
shot  by  no  Welshman." 

"Then  by  whom?" 

"  Odds  life,  Nest,  there  be  many  who  would 
prefer  to  have  the  light  and  lax  hand  of  Robert 


GERALD  5 

over  them  than  mine,  which  is  heavy,  and  grips 
tightly." 

"  Then  I  counsel,  when  thou  warrest  against 
the  Welsh,  wear  a  pillow  strapped  behind  as  well 
as  one  before." 

"  Nest  !  Thy  tongue  is  sharp  as  a  spine  of  the 
porcupine.  Get  thee  gone  into  the  embrasure, 
and  converse  with  the  parrot  there.  Gerald  and 
T  have  some  words  to  say  to  each  other,  and 
when  I  have  done  with  him,  then  I  will  speak 
with  thee." 

The  lady  withdrew  into  the  window.  She  was 
a  beautiful  woman,  known  to  be  the  most  beauti- 
ful in  Wales.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Rhys, 
King  of  Dyfed — that  is.  South  Wales,  and  she 
had  been  surrendered  when  quite  young  as  a  hos- 
tage to  Henry.  He  had  respected  neither  her 
youth  nor  her  helpless  position  away  from  her 
natural  protectors.  Then  he  had  thrust  her  on 
Gerald  of  Windsor,  one  of  the  Norman  adven- 
turers who  were  turned  loose  on  Wales  to  be  the 
oppressors,  the  plunderers,  and  the  butchers  of 
Nest's  own  people. 

Nest  had  profuse  golden  hair,  and  a  wonderful 
complexion  of  lilies  and  roses,  that  flashed,  even 
flamed  with  emotion.     Her  eyes   were  large  and 


6  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

deep,  under  dark  brows,  and  with  long  dark  lashes 
that  swept  her  cheeks  and  veiled  her  expressive 
eyes  when  lowered.  She  was  tall  and  willowy, 
graceful  in  her  every  movement.  In  her  eyes, 
usually  tremulous  and  sad,  there  scintillated  a 
lurking  fire — threats  of  a  blaze,  should  she  be  an- 
gered. When  thrown  into  the  arms  of  Gerald, 
her  wishes  had  not  been  consulted.  Henry  had 
desired  to  be  rid  of  her,  as  an  encumbrance,  as 
soon  as  he  resolved  on  marrying  Mathilda,  the 
heiress  of  the  Saxon  kings,  daughter  of  Malcolm 
of  Scotland,  and  niece  to  Edgar  Etheling.  At 
one  time  he  had  thought  of  conciliating  the  Welsh 
by  making  Nest  his  wife.  Their  hostility  would 
cease  when  the  daughter  of  one  of  their  princes 
sat  on  the  English  throne.  But  on  further  con- 
sideration, he  deemed  it  more  expedient  for  him 
to  attach  to  him  the  English,  and  so  rally  about 
him  a  strong  national  party  against  the  machina- 
tions of  his  elder  brother,  Robert.  This  con- 
cluded, he  had  disposed  of  Nest,  hurriedly,  to  the 
Norman  Gerald. 

Meanwhile,  her  brother,  Griffith,  despoiled  of 
his  kingdom,  a  price  set  on  his  head,  was  an  exile 
and  a  refugee  at  the  Court  of  the  King  of  Gwyn- 
edd,  or  North  Wales,  at  Aberfraw  in  Anglesey. 


GERALD  7 

"  Come  now,  Gerald,  what  is  thy  report  ?  How 
fares  it  with  the  pacification  of  Wales?" 

"  Pacification,  Lord  King  !  Do  you  call  that 
pacifying  a  man  when  you  thrash  his  naked  body 
with  a  thorn-bush  ?  " 

"  If  you  prefer  the  term — subjugation." 
"  The  word  suits.  Sire,  it  was  excellent  policy, 
as  we  advanced,  to  fill  in  behind  us  with  a  colony 
of  Flemings.  The  richest  and  fattest  land  has 
been  cleared  of  the  Welsh  and  given  to  foreign- 
ers. Moreover,  by  this  means  we  have  cut  them 
off  from  access  to  the  sea,  from  their  great  har- 
bors. It  has  made  them  mad.  Snatch  a  meal 
from  a  dog,  and  he  will  snarl  and  bite.  Now  we 
must  break  their  teeth  and  cut  their  claws.  They 
are  rolled  back  among  their  tangled  forests  and 
desolate  mountains." 

"  And  what  advance  has  been  made?" 
"  I  have  gone  up  the  Towy  and  have  established 
a  castle  at  Carreg  Cennen,  that  shall  check  Dyne- 
vor  if  need  be." 

"  Why  not  occupy  Dynevor,  and  build  there  ?  " 
Gerald  looked  askance   at  his  wife.     The  ex- 
pression of  his  face  said  more  than  words.     She 
was  trifling  with   the  bird,  and   appeared  to  pay 
no  attention  to  what  was  being  said. 


8  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  I  perceive,"  spoke  Henry,  and  chuckled. 

Dynevor  had  been  the  palace  in  which  Nest's 
father,  the  King  of  South  Wales,  had  held  court. 
It  was  from  thence  that  her  brother  Griffith  had 
been  driven  a  fugitive  to  North  Wales. 

"  In  Carreg  Cennen  there  is  water — at  Dynevor 
there  is  none,"  said  Gerald,  with  unperturbed 
face. 

"  A  good  reason,"  laughed  Henry,  and  shifted 
the  pillow  behind  his  head.  "  Hey,  there,  Nest ! 
employ  thy  energies  in  catching  of  flies.  Me- 
thinks  were  I  to  put  a  bluebottle  in  my  mouth, 
the  buzzing  might  attract  the  salamander,  and  I 
would  catch  him  as  he  came  after  it."  Then  to 
Gerald,  "  Go  on  with  thine  account." 

"  I  have  nothing  further  to  say — than  this." 

He  put  forth  his  hand  and  took  a  couple  of 
fresh  walnuts  off  a  leaf  that  was  on  the  table. 
Then,  unbidden,  he  seated  himself  on  a  stool, 
with  his  back  to  the  embrasure,  facing  the  King. 
Next  he  cracked  the  shells  in  his  fist,  and  cast 
the  fragments  into  the  fire.  He  proceeded  lei- 
surely to  peel  the  kernels,  then  extended  his 
palm  to  Henry,  offering  one,  but  holding  his 
little  and  third  finger  over  the  other. 

"  I  will  have  both,"  said  Beauclerk. 


GERALD  9 

"  Nay,  Sire,  I  am  not  going  to  crack  all  the 
nutshells,  and  you  eat  all  the  kernels." 

"  What  mean  you  ?  " 

"  Hitherto  I  and  other  adventurers  have  risked 
our  lives,  and  shed  our  blood  in  cracking  the 
castles  of  these  Welsh  fellows,  and  now  we  want 
something  more,  some  of  the  flesh  within.  Nay, 
more.  We  ask  you  to  help  us.  You  have  done 
nothing." 

"  I  led  an  army  into  Wales  last  summer,"  said 
Henry  angrily. 

"And  led  it  back  again,"  retorted  Windsor 
drily.  "  Excuse  my  bluntness.  That  was  of  no 
advantage  whatsoever  to  us  in  the  south.  Your 
forces  were  not  engaged.  It  was  a  promenade 
through  Powys.  As  for  us  in  the  south,  we  have 
looked  for  help  and  found  none  since  your  great 
father  made  a  pilgrimage  to  St.  David.  Twice 
to  Dewi  is  as  good  as  once  to  Rome,  so  they  say. 
He  went  once  to  look  around  him  and  to  overawe 
those  mountain  wolves." 

"  What  would  you  have  done  for  you  ?  "  in- 
quired Henry  surlily. 

"  Not  a  great  thing  for  you  ;  for  us — everything." 

"  And  that  ?  " 

"  At  this  moment  a  chance  offers  such  as  may 


lo  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

not  return  again  in  our  time.  If  what  I  propose 
be  done,  you  drive  a  knife  into  the  heart  of  the 
enemy,  and  that  will  be  better  than  cutting  ofT 
his  fingers  and  toes  and  slicing  away  his  ears.  It 
will  not  cost  you  much,  Sire — not  the  risk  of  an 
arrow.     Naught  save  the  stroke  of  a  pen." 

"  Say  what  it  is." 

"The  Bishop  of  St.  David's  is  dead,  a  Welsh 
prelate,  and  the  Church  there  has  chosen  another 
Welshman,  Daniel,  to  succeed  him.  Give  the  see 
to  an  Englishman  or  a  Norman,  it  matters  not 
which — not  a  saint,  but  a  fellow  on  whom  you 
can  rely  to  do  your  work  and  ours." 

"  I  see  not  how  this  will  help  you,"  said  Henry, 
with  his  eye  on  the  hard  face  of  Gerald,  which 
was  now  becoming  animated,  so  that  the  bronze 
cheek  darkened. 

"  How  this  will  help  us  !  "  echoed  Windsor. 
"It  will  be  sovereign  as  help.  See  you.  Sire! 
We  stud  the  land  with  castles,  but  we  cannot  be 
everywhere.  The  Welsh  have  a  trick  of  gather- 
ing noiselessly  in  the  woods  and  glens  and  draw- 
ing a  ring  about  one  of  our  strongholds,  and  let- 
ting no  cry  for  assistance  escape.  Then  they 
close  in  and  put  every  Englishman  therein  to 
the  sword — if   they   catch  a  Fleming,  him   they 


GERALD  II 

hang  forthwith.  We  know  not  that  a  castle  has 
been  attacked  and  taken  till  we  see  the  clouds  lit 
up  with  flame.  When  we  are  building,  then  our 
convoys  are  intercepted,  our  masons  are  harassed, 
our  limekilns  are  destroyed,  our  cattle  carried  off, 
our  horses  houghed,  and  our  men  slaughtered." 

"  But  what  will  a  bishop  avail  you  in  such 
straits?  " 

"  Attend  !  and  you  shall  hear.  A  bishop  who 
is  one  of  ourselves  and  not  a  Welshman  drains 
the  produce  of  the  land  into  English  pockets. 
He  will  put  an  Englishman  into  every  benefice, 
that  in  every  parish  we  may  have  a  spy  on  their 
actions,  maintained  by  themselves.  There  is  the 
joke  of  it.  We  will  plant  monasteries  where  we 
have  no  castles,  and  stuff  them  with  Norman 
monks.  A  bishop  will  find  excuses,  I  warrant 
you,  for  dispossessing  the  native  clergy,  and  of 
putting  our  men  into  their  berths.  He  will  do 
more.  He  will  throw  such  a  net  of  canon  law 
over  the  laity  as  to  entangle  them  inextricably  in 
its  meshes,  and  so  enable  us,  without  unnecessary 
bloodshed,  to  arrogate  their  lands  to  ourselves." 

Henry  laughed. 

"  Give  us  the  right  man.  No  saint  with 
scruples." 


12  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  'Sdeath  !  "  exclaimed  the  King  ;  "  I  know  the 
very  man  for  you." 

"And  he  is?" 

"  Bernard,  the  Queen's  steward." 

"  He  is  not  a  clerk  !  " 

"  I  can  make  him  one." 

"  He  is  married  !  " 

"  He  can  cast  off  his  wife — a  big-mouthed  jade. 
By  my  mother's  soul,  he  will  be  glad  to  purchase 
a  bishopric  so  cheap." 

"  He  is  no  saint  ?  " 

"  He  has  been  steward  to  one,"  mocked  Henry. 
"  My  Maude  postures  as  a  saint,  gives  large  alms 
to  needy  clerks,  washes  the  feet  of  beggars,  en- 
dows monasteries,  and  grinds  her  tenants  till  they 
starve,  break  out  into  revolt,  and  have  to  be  hung 
as  an  example.  She  lavishes  coin  on  foreign 
flattering  minstrels — and  for  that  the  poor  Eng- 
lish churl  must  be  put  in  the  press.  It  is  Bernard, 
and  ever  Bernard,  who  has  to  turn  the  screw  and 
add  the  weights  and  turn  the  grindstone." 

"  And  he  scruples  not  ?  " 

"  Has  not  a  scruple  in  his  conscience.  He 
cheats  his  mistress  of  a  third  of  what  he  raises  for 
her  to  lavish  on  the  Church  and  the  trumpeters 
of  her  fame.'* 


GERALD  13 

"  That  is  the  man  we  require.  Give  us  Bernard, 
and,  Sire,  you  will  do  more  to  pacify  Wales — 
pacify  is  your  word — than  if  you  sent  us  an  army. 
Yet  it  must  be  effected  speedily,  before  the  Welsh 
get  wind  of  it,  or  they  will  have  their  Daniel  con- 
secrated and  installed  before  we  shall  be  ready 
with  our  Bernard." 

"  It  shall  be  accomplished  at  once — to-morrow. 
Go,  Gerald,  make  inquiry  what  bishops  are  in  the 
city,  and  send  one  or  other  hither.  He  shall  priest 
him  to-morrow,  and  Bernard  shall  be  consecrated 
bishop  the  same  day.  Take  him  back  with  you. 
If  you  need  men  you  shall  have  them.  Enthrone 
him  before  they  are  aware.  They  have  been 
given  Urban  at  Llandaff,  and,  death  of  my  soul ! 
he  has  been  belaboring  his  flock  with  his  crook, 
and  has  shorn  them  so  rudely  that  they  are  bleed- 
ing to  death.  There  is  Hervey,  another  Norman 
we  have  thrust  into  St.  Asaph,  and,  if  I  mistake 
not,  his  sheep  have  expelled  their  shepherd.  So, 
to  support  Bernard,  force  will  be  required.  Let 
him  be  well  sustained." 

"  I  go,"  said  Gerald.  "  When  opposition  is 
broken  we  shall  eat  our  walnuts  together,  Sire." 

"  Aye — but  Bernard  will  take  the  largest  share." 


CHAPTER  II 

NEST 

King  Henry  folded  his  hands  over  his  paunch, 
leaned  back  and  laughed  heartily. 

''  'Sdeath  !  "  said  he.  "  But  I  believe  the  sala- 
mander has  perished  :  he  could  not  endure  the 
mirth  of  it.  Odds  blood !  But  Bernard  will  be 
a  veritable  salamander  in  the  rude  bowels  of 
Wales." 

Before  him  stood  Nest,  with  fire  erupting  from 
her  dark  eyes. 

Henry  looked  at  her,  raised  his  brows,  settled 
himself  more  easily  in  his  chair,  but  cast  aside 
the  pillows  on  which  his  arms  had  rested.  "  Ha  ! 
Nest,  I  had  forgotten  thy  presence.  Hast  caught 
me  a  bluebottle  ?  My  trouble  is  not  so  acute  just 
now.     How  fares  our  boy,  Robert  ?  " 

She  swept  the  question  aside  with  an  angry 
gesture  of  the  hand. 

*'  And  what  sort  of  housekeeping  do  you  have 
with  Gerald  ?  "  he  asked. 
14 


NEST  15 

Again  she  made  a  movement  of  impatience. 

"  Odds  life  !  "  said  he.  "  When  here  it  was 
ever  with  thee  Wales  this,  and  Wales  that.  We 
had  no  mountains  like  thy  Welsh  Mynyddau — 
that  is  the  silly  word,  was  it  not  ?  And  no  trees 
like  those  in  the  Vale  of  Towy,  and  no  waters 
that  brawled  and  foamed  like  thy  mountain 
brooks,  and  no  music  like  the  twanging  of  thy 
bardic  harps,  and  no  birds  sang  so  sweet,  and  no 
flowers  bloomed  so  fair.  Pshaw !  now  thou  art 
back  among  them  all  again.  I  have  sent  thee 
home — art  content  ?  " 

"  You  have  sent  me  back  to  blast  and  destroy 
my  people.  You  have  coupled  my  name  with  that 
of  Gerald,  that  the  curses  of  my  dear  people  when 
they  fall  on  him  may  fall  on  me  also." 

"  Bah  !  "  said  the  King.  "  Catch  me  a  blue- 
bottle, and  do  not  talk  in  such  high  terms." 

"  Henry,"  she  said,  in  thrilling  tones,  "  I  pray 

>> 
you 

"  You  were  forever  praying  me  at  one  time  to 
send  you  Imck  to  Wales.  I  have  done  so,  and 
you  are  not  content." 

"  I  had  rather  a  thousand  times  have  buried  my 
head — my  shamed,  my  dishonored  head  " — she 
spoke  with  sternness  and   concentrated  wrath — 


i6  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  in  some  quiet  cloister,  than  to  be  sent  back  with 
a  firebrand  into  my  own  land  to  lay  its  homesteads 
in  ashes." 

"  You  do  pretty  well  among  yourselves  in 
that  way,"  said  Henry  contemptuously.  "  When 
were  you  ever  known  to  unite?  You  are  for- 
ever flying  at  each  other's  throats  and  wasting 
each  other's  lands.  Those  who  cannot  combine 
must  be  broken." 

Nest  drew  a  long  breath.  She  knitted  her 
hands  together. 

"  Henry,"  she  said,  "  I  pray  you,  reconsider 
what  Gerald  has  advised,  and  withhold  consent." 

"  Nay,  it  was  excellent  counsel." 

"  It  was  the  worst  counsel  that  could  be  given. 
Think  what  has  been  done  to  my  poor  people. 
You  have  robbed  them  of  their  corn-land  and 
have  given  it  to  aliens.  You  have  taken  from 
them  their  harbors,  and  they  cannot  escape. 
You  have  driven  away  their  princes,  and  they  can- 
not unite.  You  have  crushed  out  their  indepen- 
dence, and  they  cease  to  be  men.  They  have  but 
one  thing  left  to  them  as  their  very  own — their 
Church.  And  now  you  will  plunder  them  of 
that — thrust  yourselves  in  between  them  and 
God.     They  have  had  hitherto  their  own  pastors, 


NEST  17 

as  they  have  had  their  own  princes.  They  have 
followed  the  one  in  war  and  the  other  in  peace. 
Their  pastors  have  been  men  of  their  own  blood, 
of  their  own  speech,  men  who  have  suffered  with 
them,  have  wept  with  them,  and  have  even  bled 
with  them.  These  have  spoken  to  them  when 
sick  at  heart,  and  have  comforted  them  when 
wounded  in  spirit.  And  now  they  are  to  be 
jostled  out  of  their  places,  to  make  room  for 
others,  aliens  in  blood,  ignorant  of  our  language, 
indifferent  to  our  woes;  men  who  cannot  advise 
nor  comfort,  men  from  whom  our  people  will 
receive  no  gift,  however  holy.  Deprived  of  every- 
thing that  makes  life  endurable,  will  you  now 
deprive  them  of  their  religion  ?  " 

She  paused,  out  of  breath,  with  flaming  cheek, 
and  sparkling  eyes — quivering,  palpitating  in 
every  part  of  her  body. 

"  Nest,"  said  the  King,  "  you  are  a  woman — a 
fool.     You  do  not  understand  policy." 

"  Policy  !  "  she  cried  scornfully.  "  What  is 
policy  ?  My  people  have  their  faults  and  their 
good  qualities." 

"  Faults  !  I  know  them,  I  trow.  As  to  their 
good  qualities,  I  have  them  to  learn."  He 
shrugged  his  shoulders  contemptuously. 


i8  '      PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"You  know  their  faults  alone,"  pursued  Nest 
passionately,  "  because  you  seek  to  find  them  that 
you  may  foster  and  trade  on  them.  That  is 
policy.  Policy  is  to  nurture  the  evil  and  ignore 
the  good.  None  know  better  their  own  weak- 
nesses than  do  we.  But  why  not  turn  your  policy 
to  helping  us  to  overcome  them  and  be  made 
strong?" 

"  It  is  through  your  own  inbred  faults  that  we 
have  gained  admission  into  your  mountains. 
Brothers  with  you  cannot  trust  brothers " 

"  No  more  than  you  or  Robert  can  trust  each 
other,  I  presume,"  sneered  Nest.  An  arrow  was 
aimed  at  you  from  behind.  Who  shot  it  ?  Not 
a  Welshman,  but  Robert,  or  a  henchman  of 
Robert.  On  my  honor,  you  set  us  a  rare  example 
of  fraternal  affection  and  unity  !  " 

Henry  bit  his  lips. 

"  It  is  through  your  own  rivalries  that  we  are 
able  to  maintain  our  hold  upon  your  mountains." 

"  And  because  we  know  you  as  fomenters  of 
discord — doers  of  the  devil's  work — that  is  why 
we  hate  you.  Give  up  this  policy,  and  try  an- 
other method  with  us." 

"  Women  cannot  understand.     Have  done  !  " 

"  Justice,  they  say,  is  figured  as  a  woman  ;  for 


NEST  19 

Justice  is  pitiful  towards  feebleness  and  infirmity. 
But  with  you  is  no  justice  at  all,  only  rank  tyr- 
anny— tyranny  that  can  only  rule  with  the  iron 
rod,  and  drive  with  the  scourge." 

"  Be  silent !     My  salamander  is  moving  again." 
But  she   would    not  listen   to  him.     She   pur- 
sued— 

"  My  people  are  tender-hearted,  loving,  loyal, 
frank.  Show  them  trust,  consideration,  regard, 
and  they  will  meet  you  with  open  arms.  We 
know  now  that  our  past  has  been  one  of  defeat 
and  recoil,  and  we  also  know  why  it  has  been  so. 
Divided  up  into  our  little  kingdoms,  full  of  rival- 
ries, jealousies,  ambitions,  we  have  not  had  the  wit 
to  cohere.  Who  would  weave  us  into  one  has 
made  a  rope  of  sand.  It  was  that,  not  the  su- 
perior courage  or  better  arms  of  the  Saxon,  that 
drove  us  into  mountains  and  across  the  sea.  It  is 
through  playing  with,  encouraging  this,  bribing 
into  treachery,  that  you  are  forcing  your  way 
among  us  now.  But  if  in  place  of  calling  over  ad- 
venturers from  France  and  boors  from  Flanders  to 
kill  us  and  occupy  our  lands,  you  come  to  us  with 
the  olive  branch,  and  offer  us  your  suzerainty  and 
guarantee  us  against  internecine  strife — secure  to 
us  our  lands,  our  laws,  our  liberties — then  we  shall 


20  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

become  your  devoted  subjects,  we  shall  look  up 
to  you  as  to  one  who  raises  us,  whereas  now  we 
regard  you  as  one  who  casts  us  down  to  trample 
on  us.  We  have  our  good  qualities,  and  these 
qualities  will  serve  you  well  if  you  will  encourage 
them.  But  your  policy  is  to  do  evil,  and  evil 
only." 

Henry  Beauclerk,  with  a  small  mallet,  struck  a 
wooden  disk,  and  an  attendant  appeared. 

"  Call  Gerald  Windsor  back,"  said  he  ;  then,  to 
himself,  "  this  woman  is  an  offense  to  me." 

"  Because  I  utter  that  which  you  cannot  un- 
derstand. I  speak  of  justice,  and  you  understand 
only  tyranny." 

"  Another  word.  Nest,  and  I  shall  have  you 
forcibly  removed." 

She  cast  herself  passionately  at  the  King's  feet. 

"  I  beseech  thee — I — I  whom  thou  didst  so 
cruelly  wrong  when  a  poor  helpless  hostage  in  thy 
hands — I,  away  from  father  and  mother — alone 
among  you — not  knowing  a  word  of  your  tongue. 
I  have  never  asked  for  aught  before.  By  all  the 
wrongs  I  have  endured  from  thee — by  thy  hopes 
for  pardon  at  the  great  Day  when  the  oppressed 
and  fatherless  will  be  righted — I  implore  thee — 
withhold  thy  consent." 


NEST  21 

"It  is  idle  to  ask  this,"  said  Henry  coldly. 
"  Leave  me.  I  will  hear  no  more."  Then  taking 
the  ewer,  he  began  again  to  pour  water  into  the 
basin,  and  next  to  ladle  it  back  into  the  vessel 
whence  he  had  poured  it. 

"  Oh,  you  beau  clerk !  "  exclaimed  Nest,  rising 
to  her  feet.  "  So  skilled  in  books,  who  knowest 
the  qualities  of  the  porcupine  through  Plinius, 
and  how  to  draw  forth  a  salamander,  as  instructed 
by  Galen !  A  beau  clerk  indeed,  who  does  not 
understand  the  minds  of  men,  nor  read  their 
hearts;  who  cannot  understand  their  best  feelings, 
whose  only  thought  is  that  of  the  churl,  to  smash, 
and  outrage,  and  ruin.  A  great  people,  a  people 
with  more  genius  in  its  little  finger  than  all  thy 
loutish  Saxons  in  their  entire  body,  thou  wilt  op- 
press, and  turn  their  good  to  gall,  their  sweet- 
ness to  sour,  and  nurture  undying  hate  where  thou 
mightest  breed  love." 

"  Begone  !  I  will  strike  and  summon  assistance, 
and  have  thee  removed." 

"  Then,"  said  Nest,  "  I  appeal  unto  God,  that 
He  may  avenge  the  injured  and  the  oppressed. 
May  He  smite  thee  where  thou  wilt  most  pain- 
fully feel  the  blow  !  May  He  break  down  all  in 
which  thou  hast  set  thy  hopes,  and  level  with  the 


22  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

dust  that  great  ambition  of  thine  !  "  She  gasped. 
"  Sire,  when  thou  seest  thy  hopes  wrecked  and 
thyself  standing  a  stripped  and  blasted  tree — then 
remember  Wales  !  " 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   SEVEN   DEGREES 

The  river  Cothi,  that  after  a  lengthy  course 
finally  discharges  into  the  Towy,  so  soon  as  it 
has  quitted  the  solitudes  of  moor  and  mountain, 
traverses  a  broad  and  fertile  basin  that  is  a  gath- 
ering-place of  many  feeders.  From  this  basin  it 
issues  by  a  narrow  glen,  almost  a  ravine. 

The  sides  of  this  great  bowl  are  walled  in  by 
mountains,  though  not  of  the  height,  desolation, 
and  grandeur  of  those  to  the  north,  where  the 
Cothi  takes  its  rise.  The  broad  basin  in  the 
midst  of  the  highlands,  once  probably  occupied 
by  a  lake,  is  traversed  near  its  head  by  the  Sarn 
Helen,  a  paved  Roman-British  road,  still  in  use, 
that  connects  the  vales  of  the  Towy  and  the 
Teify,  and  passes  the  once  famous  gold-mines  of 
Ogofau. 

At  the  head  of  this  oval  trough  or  basin  stand 

the  church  and  village  of  Cynwyl  Gaio,  backed 

23 


24  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

by  mountains  that  rise  rapidly,  and  are  planted 
on  a  fork  between  the  river  Annell  and  a  tribu- 
tary, whose  mingled  waters  eventually  swell  the 
Cothi. 

The  lower  extremity  of  the  trough  is  occupied 
by  a  rocky  height,  Pen-y-ddinas,  crowned  with 
prehistoric  fortifications,  and  a  little  tarn  of  tri- 
fling extent  is  the  sole  relic  of  the  great  sheet  of 
water  which  at  one  time,  we  may  conjecture, 
covered  the  entire  expanse. 

At  the  time  of  this  story,  the  district  between 
the  Towy  and  Teify,  comprising  the  basin  just 
described,  constituted  the  sanctuary  of  David, 
and  was  the  seat  of  an  ecclesiastical  tribe — that 
is  to  say,  it  was  the  residence  of  a  people  subject 
to  a  chief  in  sacred  orders,  the  priest  Pabo,  and 
the  hereditary  chieftainship  was  in  his  family. 

And  this  pleasant  bowl  among  the  mountains 
was  also  regarded  as  a  sanctuary,  to  which  might 
fly  such  as  had  fallen  into  peril  of  life  by  man- 
slaughter, or  such  strangers  as  were  everywhere 
else  looked  on  with  suspicion.  A  story  was  told, 
and  transmitted  from  father  to  son,  to  account  for 
this.  It  was  to  this  effect.  When  St.  David — 
or  Dewi,  as  the  Welsh  called  him — left  the  synod 
of    Brefi,   in   the    Tcify    Vale,    he    ascended    the 


THE  SEVEN  DEGREES  25 

heights  of  the  Craig  Twrch,  by  Queen  Helen's 
road,  and  on  passing  the  brow,  looked  down  for 
the  first  time  on  the  fertile  district  bedded  be- 
neath him,  engirdled  by  heathery  mountains  at 
the  time  in  the  flush  of  autumn  flower.  It  was 
as  though  a  crimson  ribbon  was  drawn  round  the 
emerald  bowl. 

Then — so  ran  the  tale — the  spirit  of  prophecy 
came  on  the  patriarch.  His  soul  was  lifted  up 
within  him,  and  raising  his  hands  in  benediction, 
he  stood  for  a  while  as  one  entranced. 

"  Peace  !  "  said  he — and  again,  "  Peace  !  "  and 
once  more,  "  Peace  !  "  and  he  added,  "  May  the 
deluge  of  blood  never  reach  thee  ! " 

Then  he  fell  to  sobbing,  and  bowed  his  head 
on  his  knees. 

His  disciples,  Ismael  and  Aiden,  said,  "  Father, 
tell  us  why  thou  weepest." 

But  David  answered,  "  I  see  what  will  be.  Till 
then  may  the  peace  of  David  rest  on  this  fair 
spot." 

Now,  in  memory  of  this,  it  was  ordained  that 
no  blood  should  be  spilled  throughout  the  region  ; 
and  that  such  as  feared  for  their  lives  could  flee 
to  it  and  be  safe  from  pursuit,  so  long  as  they 
remained  within  the  sanctuary  bounds.     And  the 


26  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

bounds  were  indicated  by  crosses  set  up  on  the 
roads  and  at  the  head  of  every  pass. 

Consequently,  the  inhabitants  of  the  Happy 
Valley  knew  that  no  Welsh  prince  would  harry 
there,  that  no  slaughters  could  take  place  there, 
no  hostile  forces  invade  the  vale.  There  might 
ensue  quarrels  between  residents  in  the  Happy 
Land,  personal  disputes  might  wax  keen  ;  but  so 
great  was  the  dread  of  incurring  the  wrath  of 
Dewi,  that  such  quarrels  and  disputes  were  always 
adjusted  before  reaching  extremities. 

And  this  immunity  from  violence  had  brought 
upon  the  inhabitants  great  prosperity.  Such  was 
a  consequence  of  the  benediction  pronounced  by 
old  Father  David. 

It  was  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  region  looked  to  him  with  peculiar 
reverence  and  almost  fanatical  love.  Just  as  in 
Tibet  the  Grand  Lama  never  dies,  for  when  one 
religious  chief  pays  the  debt  of  nature,  his  spirit 
undergoes  a  new  incarnation,  so — or  almost  so — 
was  each  successive  Bishop  of  St.  David's  regarded 
as  the  representative  of  the  first  great  father,  as 
invested  with  all  his  rights,  authority,  and  sanc- 
tity, as  having  a  just  and  inalienable  claim  on 
their  hearts  and  on  their  allegiance. 


THE  SEVEN  DEGREES  27 

But  now  a  blow  had  fallen  on  the  community 
that  was  staggering.  On  the  death  of  their 
Bishop  Griffith,  the  church  of  St.  David  had 
chosen  as  his  successor  Daniel,  son  of  a  former 
bishop,  Sulien  ;  but  the  Normans  had  closed  all 
avenues  of  egress  from  the  peninsula,  so  that  he 
might  not  be  consecrated,  unless  he  would  con- 
sent to  swear  allegiance  to  the  see  of  Canterbury 
and  submission  to  the  crown  of  England,  and  this 
was  doggedly  resisted. 

Menevia — another  name  for  the  St.  David's 
headland  —  had  undergone  many  vicissitudes. 
The  church  had  been  burnt  by  Danes,  and  its 
bishop  and  clergy  massacred,  but  it  had  risen 
from  its  ruins,  and  a  new  successor  in  spirit,  in 
blood,  in  tongue,  had  filled  the  gap.  Now — sud- 
denly, wholly  unexpectedly,  arrived  Bernard,  a 
Norman,  who  could  not  speak  a  word  of  Welsh, 
and  mumbled  but  broken  English,  a  man  who 
had  been  hurried  into  Orders,  the  priesthood  and 
episcopal  office,  all  in  one  day,  and  was  thrust  on 
the  Welsh  by  the  mere  will  of  the  English  King, 
in  opposition  to  Canon  law,  common  decency, 
and  without  the  consent  of  the  diocese. 

The  ferment  throughout  South  Wales  was  im- 
mense.     Resentment    flamed    in     some    hearts, 


28  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

others  were  quelled  with  despair.  It  was  not  the 
clergy  alone  who  were  in  consternation  :  all,  of 
every  class,  felt  that  their  national  rights  had 
been  invaded,  and  that  in  some  way  they  could 
not  understand  this  appointment  was  a  prelude 
to  a  great  disaster. 

Although  there  had  been  dissensions  among 
the  princes,  and  strife  between  tribes,  the  Church, 
their  religion,  had  been  the  one  bond  of  union. 
There  was  a  cessation  of  all  discord  across 
the  sacred  threshold,  and  clergy  and  people 
were  intimately  united  in  feeling,  in  interests,  in 
belief.  In  the  Celtic  Church  bishops  and  priests 
had  always  been  allowed  to  marry — a  prelate  of 
St.  David's  had  frankly  erected  a  monument  to 
the  memory  of  two  of  his  sons,  which  is  still  to 
be  seen  there.  Everywhere  the  parochial  clergy, 
if  parochial  they  can  be  styled,  where  territorial 
limits  were  not  defined  had  their  wives.  They 
were  consequently  woven  into  one  with  the  people 
by  the  ties  of  blood. 

Nowhere  was  the  feeling  of  bitterness  more 
poignant  than  in  the  Happy  Valley,  where  the 
intrusion  of  a  stranger  to  the  throne  of  David 
was  resented  almost  as  a  sacrilege.  Deep  in  the 
hearts  of  the  people  lay  the  resolve  not  to  recog- 


THE  SEVEN  DEGREES  29 

nize  the  new  bishop  as  a  spiritual  father,  one  of 
the  ecclesiastical  lineage  of  Dcwi. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  affairs,  such  the 
temper  of  the  people,  when  it  was  announced 
that  Bernard  was  coming  to  visit  the  sanctuary 
and  there  to  initiate  the  correction  of  abuses. 

Pabo,  the  Archpriest,  showed  less  alarm  than 
his  flock.  When  he  heard  that  threats  were 
whispered,  that  there  was  talk  of  resistance  to 
the  intrusion,  he  went  about  among  his  people 
exhorting,  persuading  against  violence.  Let 
Bernard  be  received  with  the  courtesy  due  to  a 
visitor,  and  the  respect  which  his  ofHce  deserved. 

A  good  many  protested  that  they  would  not 
appear  at  Cynwyl  lest  their  presence  should  be 
construed  as  a  recognition  of  his  claim,  and  they 
betook  themselves  to  their  mountain  pastures,  or 
remained*  at  home.  Nevertheless,  moved  by 
curiosity,  a  considerable  number  of  men  did 
gather  on  the  ridge,  about  the  church,  Avatching 
the  approach  of  the  bishop  and  his  party.  Women 
also  were  there  in  numbers,  children  as  well,  only 
eager  to  see  the  sight.  The  men  were  gloomy, 
silent,  and  wore  their  cloaks,  beneath  which  they 
carried  cudgels. 

The  day  was  bright,  and  the  sun  flashed  on  the 


30  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

weapons  and  on  the  armor  of  the  harnessed  men 
.  who  were  in  the  retinue  of  Bishop  Bernard,  that 
entered  the  valley  by  Queen  Helen's  road,  and 
advanced  leisurely  towards  the  ridge  occupied  by 
the  church  and  the  hovels  that  constituted  the 
village. 

The  Welsh  were  never — they  are  not  to  this 
day — builders.  Every  fair  structure  of  stone  in 
the  country  is  due  to  the  constructive  genius  of 
the  Normans.  The  native  Celt  loved  to  build  of 
wood  and  wattle.  His  churches,  his  domestic 
dwellings,  his  monasteries,  his  kingly  halls,  all 
were  of  timber. 

The  tribesmen  of  Pabo  stood  in  silence,  ob- 
serving the  advancing  procession. 

First  came  a  couple  of  clerks,  and  after  them 
two  men-at-arms,  then  rode  Bernard,  attended  on 
one  side  by  his  interpreter,  on  the  otfier  by  his 
brother  Rogier  in  full  harness.  Again  clerks,  and 
then  a  body  of  men-at-arms. 

The  bishop  was  a  middle-sized  man  with  sandy 
hair,  very  pale  eyes  with  rings  about  the  iris 
deeper  in  color  than  the  iris  itself — eyes  that 
seemed  without  depth,  impossible  to  sound,  as 
those  of  a  bird.  He  had  narrow,  straw-colored 
brows,  a  sharp,  straight  peak  of  a  nose,  and  thin 


THE  SEVEN  DEGREES  31 

lips — lips  that  hardly  showed  at  all — his  mouth 
resembling  a  slit.  The  chin  and  jowl  were  strongly 
marked. 

He  wore  on  his  head  a  cloth  cap  with  two 
peaks,  ending  in  tassels,  and  with  flaps  to  cover 
his  ears,  possibly  as  an  imitation  of  a  miter  ;  but 
outside  a  church,  and  engaged  in  no  sacred  func- 
tion, he  was  of  course  not  vested.  He  had  a 
purple-edged  mantle  over  one  shoulder,  and  be- 
neath it  a  dark  cassock,  and  he  was  booted  and 
spurred.  One  of  the  clerks  who  preceded  him 
carried  his  pastoral  cross — for  the  see  of  St. 
David's  claimed  archiepiscopal  pre-eminence.  In 
the  midst  of  the  men-at-arms  were  sumpter  mules 
carrying  the  ecclesiastical  purtenances  of  the 
bishop. 

Not  a  cheer  greeted  Bernard  as  he  reached  the 
summit  of  the  hill  and  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
people.  He  looked  about  with  his  pale,  inani- 
mate eyes,  and  saw  sulky  faces  and  folded   arms. 

"  Hey  !  "  said  he  to  his  interpreter.  "  Yon 
fellow — he  is  the  Archpriest,  I  doubt  not.  Bid 
him  come  to  me." 

"  I  am  at  your  service,"  said  Pabo  in  Norman- 
French,  which  he  had  acquired. 

"  That  is  well  ;  hold  my  stirrup  whilst  I  alight." 


32  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

Pabo  hesitated  a  moment,  then  complied. 

"  The  guest,"  said  he,  "  must  be  honored." 

But  an  angry  murmur  passed  through  the 
throng  of  bystanders. 

"  You  have  a  churlish  set  of  parishioners,"  said 
Bernard,  alighting.  "  They  must  be  taught  good 
manners.     Go,  fetch  me  a  seat." 

Pabo  went  to  the  presbytery,  and  returned  with 
a  stool,  that  he  placed  where  indicated  by  the 
bishop. 

The  people  looked  at  each  other  with  undis- 
guised dissatisfaction.  They  did  not  approve  of 
their  chief  holding  the  stirrup,  or  carrying  a  stool 
for  this  foreign  intruder.  Their  isolation  in  the 
midst  of  the  mountains,  their  immunity  from  war 
and  ravage,  had  made  them  tenacious  of  their 
liberties  and  proud,  resistful  to  innovation,  and 
resolute  in  the  maintenance  of  their  dignity  and 
that  of  their  chief.  But  a  certain  amount  of 
concession  was  due  to  hospitality,  and  so  con- 
strued these  acts  could  alone  be  tolerated.  Never- 
theless their  tempers  were  chafed,  and  there  was 
no  graciousness  in  the  demeanor  of  the  bishop  to 
allay  suspicion,  while  the  contemptuous  looks  of 
his  Norman  attendants  were  calculated  to  exas- 
perate. 


THE  SEVEN  DEGREES  33 

"  It  is  well,"  said  Bernard,  signing  imperiously 
to  Pabo  to  draw  near.  "  It  is  well  that  you  can 
speak  French." 

"  I  have  been  in  Brittany.  I  have  visited 
Nantes  and  Rennes.  I  can  speak  your  language 
after  a  fashion." 

"  'Tis  well.  I  am  among  jabbering  jackdaws, 
and  cannot  comprehend  a  word  of  their  jargon. 
I  do  not  desire  to  distort  my  mouth  in  the  at- 
tempt to  acquire  it." 

"  Then  would  it  not  have  been  as  well  had  you 
remained  in  Normandy  or  England?" 

"  I  have  other  work  to  do  than  to  study  your 
tongue,"  said  Bernard  with  a  laugh.  "  I  am  sent 
here  by  my  august  master,  the  fine  clerk,  the 
great  scholar,  the  puissant  prince,  to  bring  order 
where  is  confusion." 

"  The  aspect  of  this  valley  bespeaks  confusion," 
interrupted  Pabo,  with  a  curl  of  the  lip. 

"  Do  not  break  in  on  me  with  unmannered 
words,"  said  the  bishop.  "  I  am  an  apostle  of 
morality  where  reigns  mere  license." 

"  License,  my  Sieur  ?  I  know  my  people  ;  I 
have  lived  among  them  from  childhood.  They 
are    not    perfect.     They  may  not  be  saints,  but 

I    cannot    admit    that  a    stranger  who  is    newly 
3 


34  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

come  among  us,  who  cannot  understand  a  word 
that  we  speak,  is  justified  in  thus  condemn- 
ing us." 

"  We  shall  see  that  presently,"  exclaimed  Ber- 
nard, "  when  we  come  to  particulars.  I  have 
heard  concerning  you.  My  lord  and  master,  the 
Beauclerk  Henry,  has  his  eyes  and  ears  open.  Ye 
are  a  dissolute  set,  ye  do  not  observe  the  Seven 
Degrees."  Then  aside  to  his  chaplain  :  "  It  is 
seven,  not  four,  I  think?" 

"  I  pray  you  explain,"  said  Pabo. 

"  Seven  degrees,"  pursued  Bernard.  "  I  must 
have  all  the  relationships  of  the  married  men 
throughout  the  country  gone  into.  This  district 
of  Caio  to  commence  with,  then  go  on  through 
the  South  of  Wales — through  my  diocese.  I 
must  have  all  inquired  into  ;  and  if  any  man  shall 
have  contracted  an  union  within  the  forbidden 
degrees,  if  he  have  taken  to  him  a  wife  related  by 
blood — consanguine,  that  is  the  word,  chaplain, 
eh? — or  connected  by  marriage,  affine — am  I 
right,  chaplain? — or  having  contracted  a  spiritual 
relationship  through  sponsorship  at  the  font,  or 
legal  relation  through  guardianship — then  such 
marriages  must  be  annulled,  made  void,  and  the 
issue  pronounced  to  be  illegitimate." 


THE  SEVEN  DEGREES  35 

"  My  good  Lord  !  "  gasped  Pabo,  turning  deadly 
pale. 

*'  Understand  me,"  went  on  the  bishop,  turning 
his  blear,  ringed,  birdlike  eyes  about  on  the  circle 
of  those  present,  "  if  it  shall  chance  that  persons 
have  stood  at  the  font  to  a  child,  then  they  have 
thereby  contracted  a  spiritual  afHnity — I  am  right, 
am  I  not  chaplain? — which  acts  as  a  barrier  to 
marriage ;  and,  if  they  have  become  united, 
bastardizes  their  issue.  Cousinship  by  blood,  re- 
lationship through  marriage,  all  act  in  the  same 
way  to  seven  degrees — and  render  unions  void." 

"Are  you  aware  what  you  are  about?"  asked 
Pabo  gravely.  "  In  our  land,  hemmed  in  by 
mountains,  marriages  are  usually  contracted  with- 
in the  same  tribe,  and  in  the  same  district,  so  that 
the  whole  of  our  people  are  more  or  less  bound 
together  into  a  family.  A  kinship  of  some  sort 
subsists  between  all.  If  you  press  this  rule — and 
it  is  no  rule  with  us — you  break  up  fully  three- 
fourths  of  the  families  in  this  country." 

"And  what  if  I  do?" 

"  What !     Separate  husband  and  wife  !  " 

*'  If  the  union  has  been  unlawful." 

"  It  has  not  been  unlawful.  Cousins  have  always 
among  us   been    allowed  to    marry.     No  nearer 


36  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

blood  relations  ;  and  the  rule  of  affinity  has  never 
extended  beyond  a  wife's  sister.  As  to  spiritual 
relationship  as  a  bar,  it  is  a  device  of  man.  Why ! 
to  inquire  into  such  matters  is  to  pry  into  every 
family,  to  introduce  trouble  into  consciences,  to 
offer  opportunity  for  all  kinds  of  license." 

"  I  care  not.     It  is  our  Canon  law.'' 

"  But  we  are  not,  we  never  have  been,  subject 
to  your  Canon  law." 

"  You  are  so  now.  I,  your  head,  have  taken 
oath  of  allegiance  to  Canterbury.  Thereby  I 
have  bound  you  all." 

Pabo's  cheek  darkened. 

"  I  rely  on  you,"  proceeded  the  bishop.  "  You, 
as  you  say,  have  lived  here  always.  You  can 
furnish  me  with  particulars  as  to  all  the  mar- 
riages that  have  been  contracted  for  the  last  fifty 
years." 

"  What !  does  the  rule  act  retrospectively  ?  " 

"  Ay.  What  is  unlawful  now  was  unlawful 
always." 

"  I  will  not  give  up — betray  my  people." 

"You  will  be  obedient  to  your  bishop  !  " 

Pabo  bit  his  lip  and  looked  down. 

"This  will  entail  a  good  deal  of  shifting  of 
lands   from    hand  to   hand,  when  sons   discover 


THE  SEVEN  DEGREES  37 

that    their    fathers'   wedlock    was   unlawful,   and 
that  they  are  not  qualified  to  inherit  aught." 
"  You  will  cause  incalculable  evil !  " 
The  bishop  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
"  Lead    on    to    the    church,"  said    he.     "  My 
chaplain,  who  is  interpreter  as  well,  shall  read  my 
decree  to  your  people — in  Latin  first  and  then  in 
Welsh.     By  the  beard  of  Wilgefrotis !  if  you  are 
obstructive,  Archpriest,  I  know  how  to  call  down 
lightning  to  fall  on  you." 

Note. — The  seven  prohibited  degrees  were  reduced  to  four  at  the 

P'ourth  Lateran  Council  (121 5).  By  Civil  law  the  degrees  were  thus 

counted, —    o  But  by  Canon  law —        o 

I  I 

II                                             II 
10  10  o I o 

II  II 

20  20  0 2 0 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  HWYL 

A  Welsh  church  at  the  period  of  the  Norman 
Conquest  was  much  what  it  had  been  from  the 
time  when  Christianity  had  been  adopted  by  the 
Britons.  It  was  of  wood,  as  has  been  already 
stated. 

The  insular  Celt  could  never  apply  himself  to 
the  quarrying  and  shaping  of  stone. 

The  church  of  Cynwyl  was  oblong,  built  of 
split  logs,  roofed  with  thatch.  The  eaves  pro- 
jected, so  as  to  shelter  the  narrow  windows  from 
the  drift  of  rain,  as  these  latter  were  unglazed. 
Only  in  the  chancel  were  they  protected  by 
sheep's  amnion  stretched  on  frames. 

A  gallows  of  timber  standing  at  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  west  end  supported  the  bell.  This 
was  neither  circular  nor  cast,  but  was  oblong  in 
shape,    of   hammered    metal,  and    riveted.     The 

tone  emitted  was  shrill  and  harsh,  but  perhaps 
38 


A  HWYL  39 

was  on  this  account  better  suited  to  be  heard  at 
a  distance  than  had  it  been  deep  in  tone  and 
musical  in  note. 

Rude  although  the  exterior  of  the  church  was, 
the  interior  was  by  no  means  deficient  in  beauty, 
but  this  beauty  was  limited  to,  or  at  least  con- 
centrated on,  the  screen  that  divided  the  long  hall 
into  two  portions.  There  were  no  aisles,  the 
only  division  into  parts  was  effected  by  the  screen, 
that  was  pierced  by  a  doorway  in  the  middle. 

This  screen  was,  indeed,  constructed  of  wood 
in  compartments,  and  each  compartment  was 
filed  with  an  intricate  and  varied  tracery  of  plaited 
willow  wands.  It  was  the  glory  and  the  delight 
of  the  Celt  to  expend  his  artistic  effort  on  the 
devising  and  carrying  out  of  some  original  design 
in  interlaced  work — his  knots  and  twists  and  lattice 
were  of  incomparable  beauty  and  originality.  If 
he  took  to  carving  on  stone,  it  was  to  reproduce 
on  the  best  tractable  material  his  delightful  lace- 
work  of  osiers. 

The  patterns  of  the  compartments  were  not 
merely  varied  in  plaits,  but  color  was  skilfully  in- 
troduced by  the  flexible  rods  having  been  dyed 
by  herbs  or  lichens,  and  a  further  variety  was  in- 
troduced by  the  partial  peeling  of  some  of  the 


40  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

wands  in  rings.  Moreover,  to  heighten  the  ef- 
fect, in  places  fiat  pieces  of  wood  like  shuttles, 
but  with  dragons'  heads  carved  on  them,  were  in- 
troduced among  the  plait  as  a  means  of  breaking 
continuity  in  design  and  allowing  of  a  fresh 
departure  in  pattern. 

Within  the  screen  a  couple  of  oil-lamps  burned, 
rendered  necessary  by  the  dusk  there  produced 
by  the  membrane  that  covered  the  windows. 
Here,  beneath  the  altar,  was  preserved  the  ab- 
batial  staff  of  the  founder — a  staff  invested  by 
popular  belief  with  the  miraculous  powers. 

On  the  last  day  of  April  every  year,  this  staff 
was  solemnly  brought  forth  and  carried  up  the 
river  Annell,  to  a  point  where  rested  an  enormous 
boulder,  fallen  from  the  mountain  crag,  and  rest- 
ing beside  the  stream,  where  it  glanced  and 
frothed  over  a  slide  of  rock,  in  which  were  de- 
pressions scooped  by  the  water,  but  supersti- 
tiously  held  to  have  been  worn  by  the  Apostle  of 
Caio  as  he  knelt  in  the  water  at  his  prayers  and 
recitation  of  the  Psalter.  Here  the  Archpriest 
halted,  and  with  the  staff  stirred  the  water.  It 
was  held  that  by  this  means  the  Annell  was  as- 
sured to  convey  health  and  prosperity  to  the 
basin  of  the  Cothi,  into    which  it  discharged   its 


A  HWYL  41 

blessed  waters.  Hither  were  driven  flocks  and 
herds  to  have  the  crystal  liquid  scooped  from  the 
hollows  in  the  rock,  and  sprinkled  over  them,  as 
an  effectual  preservative  against  murrain. 

The  bishop  occupied  a  stool  within  the  screen. 
On  this  occasion  he  had  nothing  further  to  do 
than  proclaim  his  inflexible  determination  to 
maintain  the  prohibition  of  marriage  within  the 
seven  degrees  for  the  future,  and  to  annul  all 
such  unions  as  fell  within  them,  whether  naturally 
or  artificially,  and  to  illegitimatize  all  children 
the  issue  of  such  marriages.  It  was  the  object 
of  the  Norman  invaders  to  sow  the  seed  of  dis- 
cord among  those  whose  land  they  coveted,  to 
produce  such  confusion  in  the  transmission  of  es- 
tates as  to  enable  them  to  intervene  and  disposses 
the  native  owners,  not  always  at  the  point  of  the 
sword,  but  also  with  the  quill  of  the  clerk. 

The  villagers  had  crowded  into  the  sacred 
building,  they  stood  or  knelt  as  densely  as  they 
could  be  packed,  and  through  the  open  door 
could  be  seen  faces  thronging  to  hear  such  words 
as  might  reach  them  without.  Every  face  wore 
an  expression  of  suspicion,  alarm,  or  resentment. 
Pabo  stood  outside  the  screen  upon  a  raised  step 
or  platform,  whence  he  was  wont  to  read  to  or 


42  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

address  his  congregation.  It  sustained  a  desk, 
on  which  reposed  the  Scriptures. 

The  bishop's  chaplain  occupied  the  center  of 
the  doorway  through  the  screen.  He  held  a 
parchment  in  his  hand,  and  he  hastily  read  its 
contents  in  Latin  first,  and  then  translated  it  into 
Welsh.  Pabo  was  a  tall  man,  with  dark  hair  and 
large  deep  eyes,  soft  as  those  of  an  ox,  yet  cap- 
able of  flashing  fire.  He  was  not  over  thirty-five 
years  of  age,  yet  looked  older,  as  there  was  gravity 
and  intensity  in  his  face  beyond  his  years.  He 
was  habited  in  a  long  woolen  garment  dyed  al- 
most but  not  wholly  black.  He  was  hearkening 
to  every  word  that  fell,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
ground,  his  hands  clenched,  his  lips  closed,  lines 
forming  in  his  face. 

It  escaped  Bernard,  behind  the  lattice-work, 
and  incapable  of  observing  such  phenomena,  how 
integrally  one,  as  a  single  body,  the  tribesmen 
present  were  with  their  ecclesiastical  and  political 
chieftain.  Their  eyes  were  riveted,  not  on  the 
reader,  but  on  the  face  of  Pabo.  The  least 
change  in  his  expression,  a  contraction  of  the 
brow,  a  quiver  of  the  lip,  a  flush  on  the  cheek, 
repeated  itself  in  every  face. 

Whilst  the    lection    in    Latin    proceeded,    the 


A  HWYL  43 

people  could  understand  no  more  of  it  than  what 
mic^ht  be  discerned  from  its  effect  on  their  Arch- 
priest  ;  but  it  was  other  when  the  chaplain  ren- 
dered it  into  every-day  vernacular.  Yet  even 
then,  they  did  not  look  to  his  lips.  They  heard 
his  words,  but  read  the  commentary  on  them  in 
the  face  of  Pabo. 

They  understood  now  with  what  they  were 
menaced.  It  was  shown  to  them,  not  obscurely. 
They  knew  as  the  allocution  proceeded  what  it 
involved  if  carried  out  :  there  were  wives  present 
whose  sentence  of  expulsion  from  their  homes 
was  pronounced,  children  who  w^ere  bastardized 
and  disinherited,  husbands  whose  dearest  ties 
were  to  be  torn  and  snapped. 

Not  a  sound  was  to  be  heard  save  the  drone  of 
the  reader's  voice  ;  till  suddenly  there  came  a 
gasp  of  pain — then  a  sob. 

Again  an  awful  hush.  Men  set  their  teeth  and 
their  brows  contracted  ;  the  muscles  of  their  faces 
became  knotted.  Women  held  their  palms  to 
their  mouths.  Appealing  hands  were  stretched 
to  Pabo,  but  he  did  not  stir. 

Then,  when  the  translation  was  ended,  the 
chaplain  looked  round  in  silence  to  Bernard,  who 
made  a  sign  with  his  hand  and  nodded. 


44  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

In  a  loud  and  strident  voice  the  chaplain  pro- 
ceeded :  "  By  order  of  Bernard,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  and  the  favor  of  his  Majesty  the  King, 
Bishop  of  St.  David's  and  Primate  of  all  Wales 
— all  such  as  have  contracted  these  unlawful 
unions  shall  be  required  within  ten  days  from 
this  present  to  separate  from  the  women  with 
whom  they  have  lived  as  husbands,  and  shall  not 
occupy  the  same  house  with  them,  nor  eat  at 
the  same  board,  under  pain  of  excommunication. 
And  it  is  further  decreed  that  in  the  event  of 
contumacy,  of  delay  in  fulfilling  what  is  hereby 
required,  or  refusal  to  fulfil  these  lawful  com- 
mands, after  warning,  such  contumacious  person 
shall  forfeit  all  his  possessions,  whether  in  lands 
or  in  movable  goods,  or  cattle — his  wearing  ap- 
parel alone  excepted  ;  and  such  possessions  shall 
be  divided  into  three  equal  portions,  whereof 
one-third  shall  be  confiscated  to  the  Crown,  one- 
third  shall  fall  to  the  Church  Metropolitan,  and, 

again,  one-third "     He  raised  his  head.     Then 

Bernard  moved  forward  in  his  seat  that  he  might 
fix  his  eyes  upon  Pabo  ;  there  was  a  lifting  of  his 
upper  lip  on  one  side,  as  he  signed  to  the  chap- 
lain to  proceed :  "  And,  again,  one-third  shall  be 
adjudged  as  a  grace  to  the  Informer."     A  moan 


A  HWYL  45 

swept  through  the  congregation  like  that  which 
precedes  the  breaking  of  a  storm.  "  To  the  In- 
former," repeated  the  chaplain ;  "  who  shall  de- 
nounce to  the  Lord  Bishop  such  unions  as  have 
been  effected  in  this  district  of  Caio  within  the 
forbidden  degrees." 

This  last  shaft  pierced  deepest  of  all.  It  in- 
vited, it  encouraged,  treachery.  It  cast  every- 
where, into  every  family,  the  sparks  that  would 
cause  conflagration.  It  was  calculated  to  dis- 
solve all  friendships,  to  breed  mistrust  in  every 
heart. 

Then  Pabo  lifted  his  head. 

His  face  was  wet  as  though  he  had  been  weep- 
ing, but  the  drops  that  ran  over  his  cheeks  fell, 
not  from  his  glowing  eyes,  but  from  his  sweat- 
beaded  brow. 

He  turned  back  the  book  that  was  on  the  desk 
and  opened  it.  He  said  no  words  of  his  own,  but 
proceeded  to  read  from  the  volume  in  a  voice 
deep,  vibrating  with  emotion  ;  and  those  who 
heard  him  thrilled  at  his  tones. 

"  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God.  Behold,  I,  even  I, 
will  judge  between  the  fat  cattle  and  between  the 
lean  cattle.  Because  ye  have  thrust  with  side 
and  with  shoulder,   and  pushed  all  the  diseased 


46  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

with  your  horns,  till  ye  have  scattered  them 
abroad  ;  therefore  will  I  save  my  flock,  and  they 
shall  no  more  be  a  prey  ;  and  I  will  judge  between 
cattle  and  cattle " 

''What  doth  he  say?  What  readeth  he?" 
asked  the  bishop  of  his  chaplain,  whom  he  had 
beckoned  to  him. 

Pabo  heard  his  words,  turned  about  and  said — 
"  I  am  reading  the  oracle  of  God.  Is  that  for- 
bidden ?  "  A  woman  in  the  congregation  cried 
out  ;  another  burst  into  sobs. 

Pabo  resumed  the  lection,  and  his  voice  uncon- 
sciously rose  and  fell  in  a  musical  wail :  "  I  will 
set  up  one  shepherd  over  them,  and  he  shall  feed 
them."  At  once — like  a  rising  song,  a  mounting 
wave  of  sound — came  the  voice  of  the  people,  as 
they  caught  the  words  that  rang  in  their  hearts ; 
they  caught  and  repeated  the  words  of  the  reader 
after  him — "  One  shepherd,  and  he  shall  feed 
them."  And  as  they  recited  in  swelling  and  fall- 
ing tones,  they  moved  rhythmically,  with  sway- 
ing bodies  and  raised  and  balanced  arms.  It  was 
an  electric,  a  marvelous  quiver  of  a  common 
emotion  that  passed  through  the  entire  congrega- 
tion. It  went  further — it  touched  and  vibrated 
through  those  outside,  near   the  door — it  went 


A  HWYL  47 

further,  it  affected  those  beyond,  who  knew  not 
what  was  said. 

Pabo  continued — and  his  voice  rolled  as  if  in  a 
chant — "  I  will  set  up  one  shepherd  over  them, 
and  he  shall  feed  them — even  my  servant  David." 

"  David !  He  shall  feed  us — even  he,  our 
father — our  father  David  !  " 

Those  kneeling  started  to  their  feet,  stretched 
their  arms  to  heaven.  Their  tears  poured  forth 
like  rain,  their  voices,  though  broken  by  sobs, 
swelled  into  a  mighty  volume  of  sound,  thrilling 
with  the  intensity  of  their  distress,  their  hope, 
their  fervor  of  faith — "  Even  he  shall  come — God's 
servant  David  !  "  At  the  name,  the  loved  name, 
they  broke  into  an  ecstatic  cry,  "  And  I  the  Lord 
will  be  their  God,  and  my  servant  David  a  prince 
among  them  ;  I  the  Lord  have  spoken  it."  *  The 
chaplain  translated.  "  He  is  uttering  treason  !  " 
shouted  Bernard,  starting  up.  "  David  a  prince 
among  them  !     We  have  no  King  but  Henry." 

Then  from  without  came  cries,  shouts,  a  rush- 
ing of  feet,  an  angry  roar,  and  the  clash  of  weapons. 

*  "  A  minnau  yr  Arglwydd  a  fyddaf  yn  Dduw  iddynt,  a'm  gwas 
Dafydd  yn  dywysog  yn  eu  mysg ;  myfi  yr  Arglwydd  a  leferais 
hyn." — Ez.  xxxiv.  24. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    FIRST    BLOOD 

"  What  is  this  uproar  ?  What  is  being  done  ?  " 
asked  Bernard  in  agitation.  "  Look,  Cadell !  Is 
there  no  second  door  to  this  trap  ?  Should 
violence  be  attempted  I  can  obtain  no  egress  by 
the  way  I  came  in  ;  this  church  is  stuffed  with 
people.  Shut  the  screen  gates  if  they  show  the 
least  indication  of  attacking  us.  'Sdeath !  if  it 
should  occur  to  them  to  fire  this  place " 

"  They  will  not  do  so,  on  account  of  their  own 
people  that  are  in  it." 

"  But — but  what  is  the  occasion  of  this  noise? 

How  is  it  I  am  here  without   anyone  to  protect 

me?     This  should  have  been  looked  to.     I  am 

not  safe  among  these  savages.     It  is  an  accursed 

bit    of   negligence   that    shall    be    inquired   into. 

What  avails  me  having  men-at-arms  if  they   do 

not  protect  me?     Body  of  my  life !     Am  not  I 

the  King's  emissary?     Am  not  I  a  bishop?     Am 
48 


THE  FIRST  BLOOD  49 

I  to  be  held  so  cheap  even  by  my  own  men  that 
I  am  allowed  to  run  the  risk  of  being  torn  to 
pieces,  or  smoked  out  of  a  hole  like  this  ?  " 

"  Do  not  fear,  my  Lord  Bishop,"  said  Cadell, 
his  chaplain  and  interpreter,  who  was  himself 
quaking,  "  there  is  a  door  behind,  in  the  chancel 
wall.  But  methinks  the  danger  is  without  ;  there 
is  the  disturbance,  and  the  congregation  are 
pressing  to  get  forth." 

"  Body  of  my  life  !  I  want  to  know  what  is 
happening.  Here,  quick,  you  clumsy  ass,  you 
beggarly  Welshman  ;  Cadell,  undo  the  clasp,  the 
brooch  ;  I  will  have  off  this  cope — and  remove 
my  miter.  I  will  leave  them  here.  I  shall  be  less 
conspicuous,  if  weapons  are  being  flourished  and 
stones  are  flying." 

The  bishop  speedily  divested  himself  of  his 
ecclesiastical  attire,  all  the  while  scolding,  cursing 
his  attendant,  who  was  a  Welshman  by  birth,  but 
who  had  passed  into  the  service  of  the  conquerors, 
and  knew  very  well  that  this  would  advance  him 
in  wealth,  and  ensure  for  himself  a  fat  benefice. 

When  the  bishop  had  been  freed  of  his  vest- 
ments, the  chaplain  unbolted  a  small  side  door, 
and  both  emerged  from  the  church. 

Outside  all  was  in  commotion.     The  populace 
4 


50  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

was  surging  to  and  fro,  uttering  cries  and  shouts. 
An  attack  had  been  made  on  the  military  guard 
of  the  bishop — and  these,  for  their  mutual  protec- 
tion, had  retreated  to  the  sumpter  horses  and 
mules,  surrounded  them,  and  faced  their  assailants 
with  swords  brandished.  About  them,  dense  and 
menacing,  were  the  Welshmen  of  Caio,  flourishing 
cudgels  and  poles,  and  the  women  urging  them 
on  with  cries. 

Bernard  found  himself  separated  from  his  party 
by  the  dense  ring  of  armed  peasants,  infuriated 
by  the  wrongs  they  had  endured  and  by  the  ap- 
peals of  the  women.  He  could  not  see  his  men, 
save  that  now  and  then  the  sun  flashed  on  their 
swords  as  they  were  whirled  above  the  heads  of  the 
crowd.  No  blood  seemed  to  have  been  shed  as 
yet — the  Normans  stood  at  bay.  The  Welsh 
peasants  were  reluctant  to  approach  too  nearly 
to  the  terrible  blades  that  whirled  and  gleamed 
like  lightning. 

At  the  same  instant  that  Bernard  issued  from 
the  church,  the  bell  suspended  between  two  beams 
was  violently  swung,  and  its  clangor  rang  out 
above  the  noise  of  the  crowd.  As  if  in  answer 
to  its  summons,  from  every  side  poured  natives, 
who  had  apparently  been  holding  themselves  in 


THE  FIRST  BLOOD  51 

reserve  ;  they  were  armed  with  scythes,  axes,  and 
ox-goads.  Some  were  in  leather  jerkins  that 
would  resist  a  sword-cut  or  a  pike-thrust,  but  the 
majority  were  in  thick  wadmel.  The  congrega- 
tion were  also  issuing  from  the  west  door  of  the 
church,  thick  on  each  other's  heels,  and  were 
vainly  asking  the  occasion  of  the  disturbance. 

It  was  some  minutes  before  Pabo  emerged  into 
the  open,  and  then  it  was  through  the  side  door. 
He  found  the  bishop  there,  livid,  every  muscle  of 
his  face  jerking  with  terror,  vainly  endeavoring 
to  force  his  chaplain  to  stand  in  front  of  and 
screen  him. 

"  I  hold  you  answerable  for  my  safety,"  said 
Bernard,  putting  forth  a  trembling  hand  and 
plucking  at  the  Archpriest. 

"  And  I  for  mine,"  cried  the  chaplain, 

"  Have  no  fear — none  shall  touch  you,"  an- 
swered Pabo,  addressing  the  prelate.  He  dis- 
dained even  to  look  at  the  interpreter. 

"  If  any  harm  come  to  my  men,  you  shall  be 
held  accountable.  They  are  King  Henry's  men  ; 
he  lent  them  to  me.  He  sent  them  to  guard  my 
sacred  person." 

"  And  mine,"  said  Cadell.  "  Our  father  in  God 
cannot  make  himself  understood  without  me." 


52  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  You  are  in  no  danger,"  said  Pabo. 

Then  the  Archpriest  stepped  forward,  went  to 
the  belfry,  and  disengaged  the  rope  from  the  hand 
of  him  who  was  jangling  the  bell.  With  a  loud, 
deep,  sonorous  voice,  he  called  in  their  native 
tongue  to  his  tribesmen  to  be  silent,  to  cease 
from  aggression,  and  to  explain  the  cause  of  the 
tumult. 

He  was  obeyed  immediately.  All  noise  ceased, 
save  that  caused  by  the  Normans,  who  continued 
to  thunder  menaces. 

"  Silence  them  also,"  said  Pabo  to  the  bishop. 

"  I — I  have  lost  my  voice,"  said  the  frightened 
prelate. 

At  the  same  moment  the  crowd  parted,  and  a 
band  of  sturdy  peasants,  carrying  clubs,  and  one 
armed  with  a  coulter,  came  forward,  drawing  with 
them  Rogier,  the  bishop's  brother,  and  a  young 
and  beautiful  woman  with  disheveled  hair  and 
torn  garments.  Her  wrists  had  been  bound  be- 
hind her  back,  but  one  of  the  men  who  drew  her 
along  with  a  great  knife  cut  the  thongs,  and  she 
shook  the  fragments  from  her  and  extended  her 
freed  arms  to  the  priest. 

"  Pabo ! " 

"  Morwen  !  "  he  exclaimed,  recoiling  in  dismay. 


THE  FIRST  BLOOD  53 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  "  demanded 
the  bishop.  "  Unhand  my  brother,  ye  saucy 
curs !  "  But,  though  his  meaning  might  be 
guessed  by  those  who  gripped  Rogier,  they  could 
not  understand  his  words. 

"  What  is  the  cause  of  this?  "  asked  Bernard, 
addressing  the  Norman.  "  Rogier,  how  comes 
this  about  ?  " 

The  Norman  was  spluttering  with  rage,  and 
writhing  in  vain  endeavor  to  extricate  himself 
from  the  men  who  held  him.  It  was  apparent 
to  Bernard  that  the  right  arm  of  the  man  had 
received  some  injury,  as  he  was  powerless  to  em- 
ploy it  against  his  captors.  The  rest  of  the 
soldiery  were  hemmed  in  and  unable  to  go  to 
his  assistance. 

"  Curse  the  hounds  !  "  he  yelled.  "  They  have 
struck  me  over  the  shoulder  with  their  bludgeons, 
or  by  the  soul  of  Rollo  I  would  have  sent  some 
of  them  to  hell !  What  are  my  men  about  that 
they  do  not  attempt  to  release  me  ?  "  he  shouted. 
But  through  the  ring  of  stout  weapons — a  quad- 
ruple living  hedge — his  followers  were  unable  to 
pass  ;  moreover,  all  considered  their  own  safety 
to  consist  in  keeping  together. 

"What  has  caused   this  uproar?"    asked    the 


54  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

bishop.     "  Did  they  attack  you  without  provo- 
cation? " 

"  By  the  soul  of  the  conqueror  !  "  roared  Rogier. 
"  Can  not  a  man  look  at  and  kiss  a  pretty  woman 
without  these  swine  resenting  it  ?  Have  not  I  a 
right  to  carry  her  off  if  it  please  me  to  grace  her 
with  my  favor?  Must  these  hogs  interfere?" 
"  Brother,  you  have  been  indiscreet !  " 
"  Not  before  your  face,  Bernard.  I  know  bet- 
ter than  that.  I  know  what  is  due  to  your  sanc- 
tity of  a  few  weeks.  I  waited  like  a  decent 
Christian  till  your  back  was  turned.  You  need 
have  known  nothing  about  it.  And  if,  as  we  rode 
away,  there  was  a  woman  behind  my  knave  on 
his  horse,  you  would  have  shut  one  eye.  But 
these  mongrels — these  swine — resent  it.  Body 
of  my  life  !  Resent  it  ! — an  honor  conferred  on 
one  of  their  girls  if  a  Norman  condescend  to  look 
with  favor  on  her.  Did  not  our  gracious  King 
Henry  set  us  the  example  with  a  Welsh  prince's 
wench  ?     And  shall  not  we  follow  suit  ?" 

"  You  are  a  fool,  Rogier — at  such  a  time,  and 
so  as  to  compromise  me." 

"  Who  is  to  take  you  to  task,  brother?  " 
"  I  mean  not  that,  but  to  risk  my  safety.     To 
leave  me  unprotected  in  the  church,  and  to  pro- 


THE  FIRST  BLOOD  55 

voke  a  brawl  without,  that  might  have  produced 
serious  consequences  to  me.  Odd's  Hfe  !  Where 
is  that  Cadcll  ?     SHnking  away  ?  " 

"  My  lord,  I  have  greater  cause  to  fear  than 
yourself.     They  bear  me  bitterest  hate." 

"  I  care  not.  Speak  for  me  to  these  curs.  Bid 
them  unhand  my  brother.  They  have  maimed 
him — maybe  broken  his  arm.  My  brother,  a 
Norman,  held  as  a  common  felon  by  these  de- 
spicable serfs  !  " 

"  Bishop,"  said  Pabo,  stepping  before  Bernard. 

"  What  have  you  to  say  ?  "  asked  the  prelate 
suddenly. 

The  face  of  the  Archpriest  was  stern  and  set, 
as  though  chiseled  out  of  alabaster. 

"  Are  you  aware  what  has  been  attempted  while 
you  were  in  God's  house  ?  What  the  outrage  is 
has  been  offered  ?  " 

"  I  know  that  my  brother  has  been  so  light 
as  to  cast  his  eye  on  one  of  your  Welsh 
wenches." 

"  Lord  bishop,"  said  Pabo  in  hard  tones,  and  the 
sound  of  his  voice  was  metallic  as  the  bell,  "  he 
has  insulted  this  noble  woman.  He  bound  her 
hands  behind  her  back  and  has  endeavored  to 
force  her  onto  a  horse  in  spite  of  her  resistance, 


56  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

her  struggles — look  at  her  bruised  and  bleeding 
arms  ! — and  to  carry  her  away." 

"  Well,  well,  soldiers  are  not  clerks  and  milk- 
sops." 

"  Do  you  know  who  she  is  ?  " 

"  I  know  not.  Some  saucy  lass  who  ogled  him, 
and  he  took  her  winks  as  an  invitation," 

"  Sieur !  "  thundered  Pabo,  and  the  veins  in  his 
brow  turned  black.  "  She  is  the  noblest,  purest 
of  women." 

"  Among  broken  sherds,  a  cracked  pitcher  is 
precious." 

"  Bishop,  she  is  my  wife  ! ' 

"  Your  wife  !  "  jeered  Bernard,  leaned  back, 
placed  his  hands  to  his  side,  and  laughed. 
*'  Priests  have  no  wives  ;  you  mean  your  harlot." 

In  a  moment  the  bishop  was  staggering  back, 
and  would  have  fallen  unless  he  had  had  the  tim- 
ber wall  of  the  church  to  sustain  him.  In  a  mo- 
ment, maddened  beyond  endurance  by  the  out- 
rage, by  the  words,  by  the  demeanor  of  the  prel- 
ate, in  forgetfulness  of  the  sacred  of^ce  of  the 
man  who  insulted  him,  in  forgetfulness  of  his  own 
sacred  office,  forgetful  of  everything  save  the  slur 
cast  on  the  one  dearest  to  him  in  the  whole  world, 
the  one  to  whom  he  looked  with  a  reverence  which 


THE  FIRST  BLOOD  57 

from  her  extended  to  all  womanhood,  the  incan- 
descent Welsh  blood  in  his  veins  burst  into  sud- 
den flame,  and  he  struck  Bernard  in  the  face,  on 
the  mouth  that  had  slandered  her  and  insulted 
him.  And  the  bishop  reeled  back  and  stood 
speechless,  with  blear  eyes  fixed,  his  hands  ex- 
tended against  the  split  logs,  and  from  his  lips, 
cut  with  his  teeth,  blood  was  flowing. 

Then,  in  the  dead  silence  that  ensued,  an  old 
hermit,  clothed  in  sackcloth,  bareheaded,  with 
long  matted  white  hair,  walking  bent  by  the  aid 
of  a  stafT — a  man  who  for  thirty  years  had  occu- 
pied a  cell  on  the  mountain-side  without  leaving 
it — stood  forward  before  all,  an  unwonted  appari- 
tion ;  and  slowly,  painfully  raising  his  distorted 
form,  he  lifted  hand  and  staff  to  heaven,  and  cried  : 
"  Wo,  wo,  wo  to  the  Blessed  Valley  !  The 
peace  of  David,  our  father,  is  broken.  Blood  has 
flowed  in  strife.  That  cometh  which  he  foresaw, 
and  over  which  he  wept.     Wo  !    wo !  wo  !  " 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  SCROLL 

The  young,  the  thoughtless,  were  full  of  exulta- 
tion over  the  rebuff  that  the  Normans,  with  their 
bishop,  had  encountered,  but  the  older  and  wiser 
men  were  grave  and  concerned.  The  Normans 
had  indeed  withdrawn  in  sullen  resentment,  out- 
numbered, and  incapable  of  revenging  on  the  spot 
and  at  once  the  disabled  arm  of  their  leader  and 
the  broken  tooth  of  their  prelate.  The  old  men 
knew  very  well  that  matters  would  not  rest  thus ; 
and  they  feared  lest  the  events  of  that  day  when 
the  party  of  foreigners  penetrated  to  the  Blessed 
Valley  might  prove  the  most  fruitful  in  disastrous 
consequences  it  had  ever  seen. 

Native  princes  had  respected  the  sanctuary  of 
David,  but  an  English  King  and  foreign  adven- 
turers were  not  likely  to  regard  its  privileges,  nor 
fear  the  wrath  of  the  saint  who  had  hitherto  ren- 
dered it  inviolable.  Bishop  Bernard  had  at  his 
58 


THE  SCROLL  59 

back  not  only  the  whole  spiritual  force  of  the 
Latin  Church,  the  most  highly  concentrated  and 
practically  organized  in  Christendom,  but  he  was 
specially  the  emissary  of  the  English  King,  with 
all  the  physical  power  of  the  realm  to  support 
him  ;  and  what  was  the  prospect  of  a  little  green 
basin  in  the  mountains,  isolated  from  the  world, 
occupied  by  three  thousand  people,  belonging  to 
the  most  loosely  compacted  Church  that  existed, 
with  no  political  force  to  maintain  its  right  and 
champion  its  independence — what  chance  had 
the  sanctuary  of  David  in  Caio  against  the  resent- 
ment of  the  English  King  and  the  Roman 
Church  ?  Neither,  as  experience  showed,  was 
likely  to  pass  over  an  affront.  One  would  sustain 
the  other  in  exacting  a  severe  chastisement. 

The  hermit,  who  after  over  thirty  years  of  retire- 
ment in  one  cell,  far  up  the  Mount  Mallaen,  had 
suddenly,  and  unsolicited,  left  his  retreat  to  ap- 
pear once  more  among  his  fellow-men,  and  then 
to  pronounce  a  sentence  of  wo,  had  sunk  ex- 
hausted after  this  supreme  effort  of  expiring 
powers,  and  had  been  removed  into  the  Arch- 
priest's  house,  where  he  was  ministered  to  by 
Morwen,  Pabo's  wife. 

The  old  man  lay  as  one  in  a  trance,  and  speech- 


6o  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

less.  His  eyes  were  open,  but  he  saw  nothing  on 
earth,  and  no  efforts  could  induce  him  to  take 
nourishment.  With  folded  hands,  muttering  lips, 
and  glazed  eyes  he  continued  for  several  days. 
Pabo  and  his  wife  looked  on  with  reverence,  not 
knowing  whether  he  were  talking  with  invisible 
beings  which  he  saw.  He  answered  no  questions 
put  to  him  ;  he  seemed  not  to  hear  them,  and  he 
hardly  stirred  from  the  position  which  he  assumed 
when  laid  on  a  bed  in  the  house. 

The  hermit  of  Mallaen  had  been  regarded  with 
unbounded  reverence  throughout  the  country. 
He  had  been  visited  for  counsel,  his  words  had 
been  esteemed  oracular,  and  he  was  even  credited 
with  having  performed  miraculous  cures. 

That  he  was  dying  in  their  midst  would  have 
created  greater  attention  and  much  excitement 
among  the  people  of  Caio  at  any  other  time,  but 
now  they  were  in  a  fever  over  the  events  of  the 
bishop's  visit,  their  alarm  over  the  enforcing  of 
the  decree  on  marriages,  and  their  expectation  of 
punishment  for  the  rough  handling  of  their  un- 
welcome visitors  ;  and  when  one  night  the  old 
hermit  passed  away,  it  was  hardly  noticed,  and 
Morwen  was  left  almost  unassisted  to  pay  the  last 
duties  to  the  dead,  to   place  the  plate  of  salt  on 


THE  SCROLL  6i 

his  breast  when  laid  out,  and  to  light  the  candles 
at  the  head. 

It  was  no  holiday-time,  and  yet  little  work  was 
done  throughout  the  once  happy  valley.  A  cloud 
seemed  to  hang  over  it,  and  oppress  all  therein. 
Shepherds  on  the  mountain  drove  their  flocks  to- 
gether, that  for  awhile,  sitting  under  a  rock  or 
leaning  on  their  crooks,  they  might  discuss  what 
was  past  and  form  conjectures  as  to  the  future. 
Women,  over  their  spinning,  drew  near  each 
other,  and  in  low  voices  and  with  anxious  faces 
conversed  as  to  the  unions  that  were  like  to  be 
dissolved.  Men  met  in  groups  and  passed  opin- 
ions as  to  what  steps  should  be  taken  to  main- 
tain their  rights,  their  independence,  and  to  ward 
off  reprisals.  Even  children  caught  up  the 
words  that  were  whispered,  and  jeered  each  other 
as  born  out  of  legitimate  wedlock,  or  asked  one 
another  who  were  their  sponsors,  and  shouted 
that  such  could  never  intermarry. 

So  days  passed.  Spirits  became  no  lighter; 
the  gloom  deepened.  It  was  mooted  who  would 
tell  of  the  relationships  borne  by  those  who  were 
now  contented  couples? — so  as  to  enable  the 
bishop  to  separate  them  ?  Who  would  see  self- 
ish profit  by  betrayal  of  their  own  kin? 


62  PABO,  THE   PRIEST 

The  delay  was  not  due  to  pitiful  forbearance,  to 
Christian  forgiveness;  it  boded  preparation  for 
dealing  an  overwhelming  blow.  The  Welsh 
Prince  or  King  was  a  fugitive.  From  him 
no  help  could  be  expected.  His  castle  of 
Dynevor  was  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  To  the 
south,  the  Normans  blocked  the  exit  of  the 
Cothy  from  its  contracted  mouth  ;  to  east,  the 
Towy  valley  was  in  the  hands  of  the  oppressor, 
planted  in  impregnable  fortresses ;  to  the  west, 
Teify  valley  was  in  like  manner  occupied.  Only 
to  the  north  among  the  wild,  tumbled,  barren 
mountains,  was  there  no  contracting,  strangling, 
steel  hand. 

The  autumn  was  closing  in.  The  cattle  that 
had  summered  in  the  Jiafod  (the  mountain  byre) 
were  returning  to  the  hendrc  (the  winter  home). 
Usually  the  descent  from  the  uplands  was  at- 
tended with  song  and  laugh  and  dancing.  It  was 
not  so  now.  And  the  very  cattle  seemed  to  per- 
ceive that  they  did  not  receive  their  wonted 
welcome. 

Pabo  went  about  as  usual,  but  graver,  paler 
than  formerly — for  his  mind  was  ill  at  ease.  It 
was  he  who  had  shed  the  first  blood.  A  trifling 
spill,  indeed,  but  one  likely  to  entail  serious  results. 


THE  SCROLL  63 

The  situation  had  been  aggravated  by  his  act. 
He  who  should  have  done  his  utmost  to  ward  off 
evil  from  his  flock  had  perpetrated  an  act  certain 
to  provoke  deadly  resentment  against  them.  He 
bitterly  regretted  his  passionate  outbreak  ;  he  who 
should  have  set  an  example  of  self-control  had 
failed.  Yet  when  he  looked  on  his  wife,  her 
gentle,  patient  face,  the  tenderness  with  which 
she  watched  and  cared  for  the  dying  hermit,  again 
his  cheek  flushed,  the  veins  in  his  brow  swelled, 
and  the  blood  surged  in  his  heart.  To  hear 
her  insulted,  he  could  never  bear ;  should 
such  an  outrage  be  repeated,  he  would  strike 
again. 

Pabo  sat  by  his  fire.  In  Welsh  houses  even  so 
late  as  the  twelfth  century  there  were  no  struc- 
tural chimneys — these  were  first  introduced  by 
the  Flemish  settlers — consequently  the  smoke 
from  the  wood  fire  curled  and  hung  in  the  roof 
and  stole  out,  when  tired  of  circling  there,  through 
a  hole  in  the  thatch. 

On  a  bier  lay  the  dead  man,  with  candles  at  his 
head — his  white  face  illumined  by  the  light  that 
descended  from  the  gap  in  the  roof.  At  the  feet 
crouched  a  woman,  a  professional  waller,  singing 
and  swaying  herself,  as  she  improvised  verses  in 


64  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

honor  of  the  dead,  promised  him  the  glories  of 
Paradise,  and  a  place  at  the  right  hand  of  David, 
and  then  fell  to  musical  moans. 

Morwen  sat  by  the  side,  looking  at  the  deceased 
— she  was  awaiting  her  turn  to  kneel,  sing,  and 
lament — and  beside  her  was  a  rude  bench  on  which 
were  placed  cakes  and  ale  wherewith  to  regale 
such  as  came  in  to  wake  the  dead. 

And  as  Pabo  looked  at  his  wife  he  thought  of 
the  peaceful  useful  life  they  had  led  together. 

She  had  been  the  daughter  of  a  widow,  a  harsh 
and  exacting  woman,  who  had  long  been  bed- 
ridden, and  with  whose  querulousness  she  had 
borne  meekly.  He  had  not  been  always  destined 
to  the  Archpriesthood.  His  uncle  had  been  the 
ecclesiastical  as  well  as  political  head  of  the  tribe  ; 
but  on  his  death  his  son,  Goronwy,  had  been 
passed  over,  as  deformed,  and  therefore  incapable 
of  taking  his  father's  place,  and  the  chiefship  had 
been  conferred  on  Pabo,  who  had  already  been 
for  some  years  ordained  in  anticipation  of  this 
selection. 

Pabo  continued  to  look  at  his  wife,  and  he 
questioned  whether  he  could  have  understood  the 
hearts  of  his  people  had  he  not  himself  known 
what  love  was. 


THE  SCROLL  65 

"  Husband,"  said  Morwcn,  "there  is  a  little  roll 
under  his  hand." 

Pabo  started  to  consciousness  of  the  present. 

"  I  have  not  ventured  to  remove  it ;  yet  what 
think  you?  Is  it  to  be  buried  with  him?  It 
almost  seems  as  though  it  were  his  testament." 

The  Archpriest  rose  and  went  to  where  the  dead 
man  lay  ;  his  long  white  beard  flowed  to  his  waist, 
and  the  hands  were  crossed  over  it. 

"  It  is  in  the  palm,"  said  Morwen. 

Pabo  passed  his  fingers  through  the  thick  white 
hair  and  drew  forth  a  scroll,  hardly  two  fingers' 
breadth  in  width  ;  it  was  short  also,  as  he  saw 
when  he  uncurled  it. 

He  opened  and  read. 

"  Yes,  it  is  his  will.     '  To  Pabo,  the  Archpriest, 

my    cell — as    a    refuge  ;  and '  "     He    ceased, 

rolled  up  the  little  coil  once  more,  and  placed  it 
in  his  bosom. 

A  stroke  at  the  door,  and  one  of  the  elders  of 
the  community,  named  Howel  the  Tall,  entered. 

"  It  seems  fit.  Father  Pabo,  to  us  to  meet  in 
council.     What  say  you  ?     All  are  gathered." 

"  It  is  well ;  I  attend." 


CHAPTER  VII 

GRIFFITH    AP    RHYS 

The  council-house  of  the  Caio  tribe  was  a  large 
circular  wooden  structure,  with  a  conical  thatched 
roof.  There  was  a  gable  on  one  side  in  which  was 
a  circular  opening  to  serve  as  window,  and  it  was 
unglazed. 

As  Pabo  entered  with  Howel  the,  Tall  he  was. 
saluted  with  respect,  and  he  returned  the  saluta- 
tion with  grave  courtesy. 

He  took  the  seat  reserved  for  him,  and  looked 
about  him,  mustering  who  were  present.  They 
were  all  representative  men,  either  because 
weighty  through  wealth,  force  of  character,  or 
intellect. 

Among  them  were  two  officers,  the  one  Mere- 
dith ap  David,  the  Bard,  who,  in  his  retentive 
memory  preserved  the  traditions  of  the  tribe  and 
the  genealogies  of  all  the  families  of  the  district 

from  Noah.     The  other  was  Morgan  ap  Seissyl, 
66 


GRIFFITH  AP  RHYS  (^-j 

the  hereditary  custodian  of  the  staff  of  Cynwyl, 
and  sacristan  of  the  church,  enjoying  certain 
lands  which  went  with  the  baculus,  or  staff,  as 
well  as  certain  dignities. 

Howel  stepped  into  the  center  of  the  building 
and  addressed  those  present,  and  their  presi- 
dent. 

"  Father  Pabo,  we  who  are  gathered  together 
have  done  so  with  one  consent,  drawn  hither  by 
a  common  need,  to  take  counsel  in  our  difBculties. 
Seeing  how  grave  is  the  situation  in  which  we 
stand,  how  uncertain  is  the  future,  how  ignorant 
we  ar^  of  the  devices  of  our  enemies,  how  doubt- 
ful what  a  day  may  bring  forth — we  have  con- 
sidered it  expedient  to  meet  and  devise  such 
methods  as  may  enable  us  to  stand  shoulder  to 
shoulder,  and  to  frustrate  the  machinations  of  our 
common  foe.  By  twos  and  threes  we  have  talked 
of  these  things,  and  now  we  desire  to  speak  in 
assembly  concerning  them. 

"  And,  first  of  all,  we  have  considered  the  threats 
of  Bernard,  whom  the  King  of  the  English  has 
thrust  upon  us  by  his  mere  will,  to  be  bishop  over 
us  ;  a  man  of  whom  we  hear  no  good,  who  cannot 
speak  our  tongue,  who  despises  our  nation  and 
its  customs,  and  mocks  at  our  laws.     A  man  is  he 


68  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

who  has  not  entered  the  sheepfold  by  the  door, 
but  has  cHmbed  in  another  way." 

His  words  were  received  with  a  murmur  of 
assent. 

"  And  the  first  time  that  this  intruder  has 
opened  his  mouth,  it  has  been  to  provoke  unto 
strife,  and  to  fill  all  hearts  with  dismay.  He 
erects  barriers  where  was  open  common.  He  pro- 
hibits unions  which  the  Word  of  God  does  not 
disallow.  He  creates  spiritual  relationships  as 
occasions  and  excuses  for  dissolving  marriages, 
where  no  blood  ties  exist.  He  proclaims  his 
mission  to  be  one  of  breaking  up  of  families  and 
making  houses  desolate.  Now  we  are  sheep  with- 
out a  shepherd,  a  flock  in  the  midst  of  wolves. 
We  are  neither  numerous  enough  nor  strong 
enough  to  resist  the  over-might  that  is  brought 
against  us.  By  the  blessing  of  David,  we  have 
been  ever  men  of  peace.  Our  hands  are  unac- 
customed to  handle  the  bow  and  wield  the  sword. 
We  have  no  prince  over  us  to  lead  us.  We  have 
no  bishop  over  us  to  advise  us.  The  throne  of 
our  father  David  is  usurped  by  an  intruder  whom 
we  will  not  acknowledge." 

He  paused.     Again  his  words  roused  applause. 

"  And  now,  it  seems  to  me,  that  as  we  are  in- 


GRIFFITH  AP  RHYS  69 

capable  of  opposing  force  to  force,  we  must  take 
refuge  in  subtlety.  It  has  pleased  God,  who  con- 
founded the  speech  of  men  at  Babel,  that  we 
should  preserve  that  original  tongue  spoken  by 
Adam  in  Paradise,  in  his  unfallen  state,  and  that 
the  rest  of  mankind,  by  reason  of  the  blindness 
of  their  hearts,  and  the  dulness  of  their  under- 
standings, are  hardly  able  to  acquire  it.  Now  it 
has  further  pleased  Providence,  which  has  a  special 
care  over  our  elect  nation,  that  our  relationships 
should  present  a  perplexity  to  all  save  unto  our- 
selves. I  am  creditably  informed  that  the  Eng- 
lish people  are  beginning  to  call  themselves  after 
their  trades,  and  to  hand  down  their  trade  names 
to  their  children,  so  that  John  the  Smith's  sons 
and  daughters  be  also  entitled  Smiths,  although 
the  one  be  a  butcher,  and  another  a  weaver — 
which  is  but  one  token  out  of  many  that  this  is 
an  insensate  people.  Moreover,  some  call  them- 
selves after  the  place  where  they  were  born,  and 
although  their  children  and  children's  children  be 
born  elsewhere,  yet  are  they  called  after  the 
township  whence  came  their  father — an  evident 
proof  of  sheer  imbecility.  Again,  it  is  said  that 
if  a  John  Redhead,  so  designated  by  reason  of  a 
fiery  poll,  have  a  dark-haired  son,  though  the  head 


70  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

of  this  latter   be  as  a  raven's   wing,  yet  is  he  a 
Redhead.     One  really  marvels  that   Providence 
should  suffer  such  senseless  creatures  to  beget 
children.     But  there  is  worse  still  behind.    A  Tom 
has  a  son  George,  and  he  is  called  Tomson.     But 
if  this  George  have  a  son  Philip,  then  Philip  is  not 
Georgeson,  but  Tomson.     Stupidity  could  go  no 
farther.     Now   we  are   wiser.     I    am   Howel   ap 
John,    and   John    was    ap   Roderick,  and    he  ap 
Thomas.     There  were  assuredly  a  score  of  Johns 
in  Caio  when  my  father  lived,  and  say  that  each 
had  five  children.     Then   there    be    now   in    the 
tribe  a  hundred  persons  who  bear  the  name  of  ap 
John  or  merch  John.     Who  is  to  say  which  John 
begat  this  lad  or  that  lass,  and  therefore  to  decide 
who  are  consanguineous,  and  who  are  not  ?    There 
is  one  man  only  whose  duty  and  calling  it  is  to 
unravel  the  tangle,  and  this  is  Meredith,  the  gene- 
alogist.    Should  the  bishop  come  here  again,  or 
send    his  commissioner,  we  have  the  means    of 
raisine  such  a  cloud  of  confusion  with  our  Johns 
and  Morgans,  or  Thomases  and  Merediths,  with 
the  aps  and  our  merchs,  as  will  utterly  bewilder 
his  brains.     I  defy  any  pig-headed  Englishman  or 
Norman  either  to  discover  ou,  relationships  unless 
he  gets  hold  of  the  genealogist." 


GRIFFITH  AP  RHYS  71 

This  was  so  obviously  true  and  so  eminently- 
consolatory  that  all  nodded  approvingly. 

"  This  being  the  case,"  pursued  Howel,  "  as 
there  is  but  a  single  man  to  unravel  this  tangle, 
Meredith  ap  David,  and  as  he  would  consider  it 
his  sacred  duty  conscientiously  to  give  every 
pedigree  if  asked — therefore  I  advise  that  he  go 
into  hiding.  Then,  when  the  bishop  comes  we 
take  it  upon  ourselves  to  confound  his  head  with 
our  relationships — consanguine,  afifine,  and  spirit- 
ual— so  that  he  will  be  able  to  do  nothing  in  the 
matter  of  dissolving  our  marriages.  A  child  who 
is  ill-treated  lies.  In  that  way  it  seeks  protec- 
tion. An  ill-treated  people  takes  refuge  in  sub- 
terfuge.    It  is  permissible." 

This  long  speech  was  vastly  approved,  and  all 
present,  even  the  bard  himself,  voted  with  up- 
lifted right  hand  that  it  should  be  carried  into 
effect. 

Then  Jorwerth  the  smith  stood  up  and  said — 

"  It  is  well  spoken  ;  but  all  is  not  done. 
The  chief  danger  menaces  us  through  our  head. 
It  is  at  the  head  that  the  deadly  blow  is  aimed. 
Griffith  ap  Rhys,  our  prince,  is  not  among  us. 
A  true  bishop  is  not  over  us.  We  have  none  but 
our  Father  Pabo  ;  and  him  we  must  do  our  ut- 


72  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

most  to  preserve.  It  is  he  who  stands  in  greater 
peril  than  we.  It  is  true  that  I  struck  a  fellow 
on  the  arm  because  he  molested  the  wife  of  our 
chief  ;  but  that  was  naught.  Blows  are  ex- 
changed among  men  and  thought  lightly  of.  But 
our  Father  Pabo  smote  the  bishop  in  the  mouth 
and  broke  his  teeth.  That  will  never  be  forgiven 
him — never  ;  and  the  intruder  Bernard  will  com- 
pass sea  and  land  to  revenge  on  him  that  blov;-. 
If  our  head  be  taken,  what  will  become  of  us,  the 
members  ?  If  it  be  thought  expedient  that 
Meredith  the  Bard  should  go  into  hiding,  then  I 
give  my  voice  that  our  chief  should  also  seek  out 
a  refuge  where  he  may  not  be  found." 

This  opinion  was  met  with  murmurs  of  ap- 
proval. Then  the  tall  Howel  rose  and  said,  "  You 
marked  what  I  said  before,  that  although  we  ap- 
prove not  deception,  yet  must  the  weak  take 
resort  unto  trickery  when  matched  against  the 
strong.  So  be  it — our  Archpriest  Pabo  shall  dis- 
appear, and  disappear  so  that  the  enemy  shall  not 
know  that  he  be  alive.  Leave  this  to  me.  An 
opportunity  offers — that  Heaven  has  given  to  us. 
Ask  me  not  to  explain." 

"  It  is  well.     Wc  trust  thee,  Howel." 

Then  they  heard   a  distant   murmur,  a  hum  as 


GRIFFITH  AP  RHYS  73 

of  a  rising  wind,  the  rustle  of  trees,  the  beating 
of  waves.  It  drew  nearer,  it  waxed  louder,  it 
broke  out  into  cries  of  joy  and  shouts  of  exulta- 
tion as  at  the  bringing  in  of  harvest,  and  the 
crowned  sheaf — the  tori  pen  y  wrack. 

The  elders  of  Caio  listened  and  wondered. 

Then  through  the  door  sprang  a  young  man, 
and  stood  where  a  falling  sunbeam  from  the  one 
round  window  rested  on  him. 

He  had  flowing  golden  hair  that  reached  his 
shoulders  in  curls.  He  was  tall,  lithe,  graceful, 
and  beautiful. 

In  a  moment  they  all  knew  him,  as  those  had 
recognized  him  on  the  way  and  had  accompanied 
him  to  the  churchtown. 

The  old,  the  gray-headed,  strong  iron  men,  and 
those  who  were  feeble  at  once  encircled  him. 
They  threw  themselves  at  his  feet,  they  clasped 
his  knees,  those  who  could  kissed  his  hands, 
others  the  hem  of  his  garment. 

"  Griffith,  our  Prince  !  Our  heart  and  soul,  our 
King!" 


CHAPTER  VIII 

PREPARING   FOR   THE   EVIL   DAY 

As  Nest  Avas  the  most  beautiful  woman  in 
Wales,  so  her  brother  Griffith  was  the  handsomest 
of  the  men  there.  His  face  was  open  and  engag- 
ing. The  blue  eyes  were  honest,  the  jaw  resolute. 
His  address  had  a  fascination  few  could  resist. 
Moreover,  the  story  of  his  young  life  was  such  as 
enlisted  sympathy  and  fired  the  hearts  of  the 
Cymri. 

His   gallant   father,   a  true  hero,  the   King  of 

Dyfed,  South  Wales,  had  fallen  in  battle,  fighting 

against  the    Normans  under   Robert    Fitzhamon 

and  some  turbulent  Welsh  who  had  invited  the 

invader  into  the  land.     The  fall  of  the  great  chief 

had    left    his   country    open,  defenseless    to   the 

spoiler.     His  eldest  son  and  his  daughter  had  been 

carried  away  as  hostages,  the  Prince  to  die  in  his 

captivity — whether  wasting  with  grief  or  by  the 

hand  of  the  assassin  none  knew — and  the  Princess, 
74 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  EVIL  DAY     75 

dishonored,  had  been  married   to  the  worst  op- 
pressor of  her  people. 

Griffith,  the  second  son,  had  effected  his  escape, 
and  had  committed  himself  to  his  namesake  the 
King  of  Gwynedd,  or  North  Wales,  and  had 
married  his  daughter. 

The  crafty  Beauclerk  was  ill-pleased  so  long  as 
the  Prince  remained  at  large  to  head  insurrection 
in  the  South,  perhaps,  in  combination  with  his 
father-in-law,  to  unite  all  Cambria  in  one  mighty 
effort  to  hurl  the  invader  from  the  rocks  of  that 
mountain  world.  He  accordingly  entered  into 
negotiations  with  the  King  and  invited  him  to 
visit  him  in  London.  Griffith  ap  Cynan,  the  old 
King  of  North  Wales,  flattered  by  the  terms  in 
which  he  was  addressed,  pleased  with  the  prospect 
of  seeing  more  of  the  world  than  was  possible 
from  his  castle-walls  in  Anglesea,  incautiously 
accepted. 

Arrived  at  Westminster,  he  was  treated  with 
effusive  courtesy  :  King  Henry  addressed  him  as 
a  brother,  seated  him  at  his  side,  lavished  on  him 
splendid  gifts,  and  still  more  splendid  promises. 
Not  till  he  had  made  the  Welshman  drunk  with 
vanity  and  ambition  did  Henry  unfold  his  pur- 
pose.    Griffith  ap  Cynan  was  offered  the  sover- 


je  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

eignty  over  North  and  South  Wales  united  with 
Cardigan,  the  Prince  of  which  had  fled  to  Ireland, 
to  be  held  under  the  suzerainty  of  the  EngHsh 
Crown,  and  the  sole  price  asked  for  this  was  the 
surrender  of  the  young  Prince,  his  own  son-in-law 
and  guest,  a  man  whose  only  guilt  consisted  in 
having  the  blood  of  Rhys  in  his  veins,  and  who 
confided  in  the  honor  and  loyalty  of  his  wife's 
father. 

The  King  of  Gwynedd  consented,  and  hasted 
home  to  conclude  his  part  of  the  contract. 

Happily,  but  not  a  moment  too  soon,  did  Grif- 
fith the  younger  get  wind  of  the  treachery  that 
was  intended,  and  he  fled  before  the  arrival  of  the 
old  King. 

When  the  latter  discovered  that  his  son-in-law 
had  escaped,  he  sent  a  body  of  horsemen  in  pur- 
suit. The  fugitive,  nearly  overtaken,  took  sanc- 
tuary in  the  church  of  Aberdaron,  and  the  baffled 
pursuers,  not  venturing  to  infringe  the  rights  of 
the  Church,  returned  unsuccessful  to  their  master. 
The  King,  angry,  blind  to  every  consideration 
save  his  ambition,  bade  his  men  return  on  their 
traces,  and,  if  need  be,  force  the  sanctuary  and 
tear  the  Prince  from  the  foot  of  the  altar,  should 
he  make  that  his  last  refuge. 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  EVIL  DAY     'j'j 

The  executioners  of  the  mandate  were  not, 
however,  free  from  the  superstitious  awe  which 
surrounded  a  sanctuary.  The  clergy  of  the  church 
and  of  the  neighborhood  rose  with  one  consent  in 
protection  of  the  pursued,  and  of  the  menaced 
rights,  and  again  the  Ministers  of  the  King  were 
baffled.  By  this  means,  time  was  gained,  and  the 
clergy  of  Aberdaron  succeeded  by  night  in  securing 
the  escape  of  the  Prince,  with  a  few  faithful  fol- 
lowers, into  the  Vale  of  the  Towy, 

There  he  had  no  alternative  open  to  him  but  to 
prepare  to  take  up  arms.  He  at  once  entered 
into  communication  with  his  sister,  on  whose 
fidelity  to  the  cause  of  the  royal  family  of 
Dyfed,  and  of  her  country,  he  knew  he  could 
calculate.  He  found  the  people  impatient  to  fly 
to  arms.  Their  condition  had  become  intoler- 
able. Wherever  they  went  the  barons  had  intro- 
duced the  system  of  feudal  tenure,  which  was 
foreign  to  the  laws  and  feelings  of  the  people, 
and  they  vigorously  resisted  its  application. 
Moreover,  foreign  ecclesiastics,  the  kinsmen  or 
clients  of  the  secular  tyrant,  seized  upon  the  liv- 
ings. Where  a  fortress  could  not  be  established, 
there  a  monastery  was  planted  and  filled  with 
foreigners,    to    maintain    whom    the    tithes    and 


78  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

glebes  were  confiscated,  and  the  benefices  con- 
verted into  vicarages,  which  were  served  by  Eng- 
lish or  continental  monks. 

Added  to  this,  the  King  had  created  the  Bishop 
of  London  Lord  of  the  Marches  and  President  of 
Shropshire,  and  this  astute  and  unprincipled  man 
devoted  his  energies  to  the  setting  at  rivalry  of  all 
the  native  princes,  and  the  goading  them  to  war 
with  one  another.  Such  was  his  policy — let  the 
Welsh  cut  each  other's  throats  and  make  way  for 
the  Norman  and  the  Fleming, 

The  wretched  people,  betrayed  by  their  natural 
leaders,  the  princes,  deprived  of  their  clergy,  sub- 
jected to  strange  laws,  with  foreign  masters, 
military  and  ecclesiastic,  intruding  themselves 
everywhere,  and  dispossessing  them  of  all  their 
possessions,  felt  that  it  would  be  better  to  die 
among  their  burnt  farmsteads  than  live  on  dis- 
honored. 

At  this  juncture,  when  they  looked  for,  prayed 
for  a  leader,  Griffith,  son  of  their  King,  suddenly 
appeared  in  their  midst,  with  a  fresh  story  of  insult 
and  treachery  to  tell — and  make  their  blood  flame. 

"  I  am  come,"  said  the  Prince,  still  standing  in 
the  falling  ray  of  sun.  "  I  have  hasted  to  come 
to  you  with  a  word  from  my  sister,  the  Princess 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  EVIL  DAY     79 

Nest.  Evil  is  devised  against  you — evil  you  are 
powerless  now  to  resist.  It  comes  swift,  and  you 
must  bow  your  heads  as  bulrushes.  The  enemy 
is  at  hand — will  be  here  on  the  morrow  ;  and 
what  the  Princess  says  to  Pabo,  your  chief,  is,  Fly 
for  your  life  !  " 

"  That  is  what  has  been  determined  among  us," 
said  Howel. 

"  It  is  well — let  not  a  moment  be  lost !  "  Then, 
looking  around,  "  I— my  friends,  my  brothers,  am 
as  a  squirrel  in  the  forest,  flying  from  branch  to 
branch,  pursued  even  by  the  hand  that  should 
have  sheltered  me.  There  is  no  trust  to  be  laid  in 
princes.  I  lean  on  none  ;  I  commend  my  cause 
to  none.  I  place  it  in  the  hearts  of  the  people. 
I  would  lay  my  head  to  sleep  on  the  knee  of  any 
shepherd,  fearless.  I  could  not  close  my  eyes 
under  the  roof  of  any  prince,  and  be  sure  he 
would  not  sell  me  whilst  I  slept." 

None  answered.  It  was  true — they  knew  it — 
too  true. 

"  My  brother,"  said  Griffith — and  he  stepped 
to  each  and  touched  each  hand — "  I  commit  my- 
self and  the  cause  of  my  country  to  these  hands 
that  have  held  the  plow  and  wielded  the  hammer, 
and  I  fear  not.     They  are  true." 


8o  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

A  shout  of  assurances,  thrilled  from  every 
heart,  and  the  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  My  brothers,  the  moment  has  not  yet  arrived. 
When  it  comes,  I  will  call  and  ye  will  answer." 

"  We  will !  " 

"  My  life — it  is  for  you." 

"  And  our  lives  are  at  your  disposal." 

"  We  knew  each  other,"  said  the  prince,  and  one 
of  his  engaging  smiles  lighted  his  face.  "  But 
now  to  the  matter  in  hand.  The  Bishop  Bernard 
claims  the  entire  region  of  Caio,  from  the  moun- 
tains to  where  the  Cothi  enters  the  ravine,  as  his 
own,  because  it  is  the  patrimony  of  David,  which 
he  has  usurped.  And  forthwith  he  sends  a  man- 
date for  the  deposition  of  your  Archpriest  Pabo, 
and  his  arrest  and  conveyance  under  a  guard  to 
his  castle  of  Llawhaden." 

"  He  shall  not  have  him." 

"  Therefore  must  he  escape  at  once." 

"  He  shall  fly  to  a  place  of  security." 

"  And  that  without  a  moment's  delay." 

"  It  shall  be  so." 

"  Furthermore,  the  bishop  sends  his  chaplain, 
Cadell,  to  fill  his  room,  to  minister  to  you  in  holy 
things." 

"  He  shall  not  so  minister  to  us." 


PREPARING  FOR  THE  EVIL  DAY     8i 

"And  to  occupy  the  presbytery." 

"  My  house  !  "  exclaimed  Pabo. 

"  He  shall  not  set  foot  therein,"  said  Howel ; 
"  leave  that  to  me." 

"  I  go,"  said  Pabo  sadly  ;  "  but  I  shall  take  my 
wife  with  me." 

"  Nay,"  answered  Howel  hastily,  "  that  must 
not  be." 

"  But  wherefore  not  ?  She  must  be  placed 
where  safe  from  pursuit  as  well  as  I." 

"  She  shall  be  under  my  protection,"  said 
Howel  the  Tall.  "  Have  confidence  in  me.  All 
Caio  will  rise  again  were  she  to  be  molested. 
Have  no  fear ;  she  shall  be  safe.  But  with  you 
she  must  not  go.  Ask  me  not  my  reasons  now. 
You  shall  learn  them  later." 

"  Then  I  go.     But  I  will  bid  her  farewell  first." 

"  Not  that  even,"  said  Howel,  "  lest  she  learn 
whither  you  betake  yourself.  That  none  of  us 
must  know." 

Then  Meredith  the  Bard  rose. 

"  There  is  need  for  haste,"  he  said.     "  I  go." 

"  And  I  go,  too,"  said  Pabo.  He  looked  at  the 
elders  with  swelling  breast  and  filling  eye.  "  I 
entrust  to  you,  dear  friends  and  spiritual  sons,  one 
more  precious  to  me  than  life  itself."     He  turned 


82  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

to  Griffith :  "  Prince,  God  grant  it  be  not  for 
long  that  you  are  condemned  to  fly  as  the  squirrel. 
God  grant  that  ere  long  we  may  hear  the  cry 
of  the  ravens  of   Dynevor ;    and    when   we   hear 

that " 

All  present  raised  their  hands — 

"  We  will  find  the  ravens  their  food." 


CHAPTER  IX 

WHAT    MUST     BE 

HOWELTHE  Tall  walked  slowly  to  the  presby- 
tery, the  house  of  Pabo,  that  was  soon  to  be  his  no 
longer.  The  tidings  that  an  armed  body  of  men 
was  on  its  way  into  the  peaceful  valley — whose 
peace  was  to  be  forever  broken  up,  so  it  seemed — 
had  produced  a  profound  agitation.  Every  one 
was  occupied :  some  removing  their  goods,  and 
themselves  preparing  to  retire  to  the  hovel  on  the 
summer  pastures ;  those  who  had  no  hafod  to  re- 
ceive them  were  concealing  their  little  treasures. 

A  poor  peasant  was  entreating  a  well-to-do 
farmer  to  take  with  him  his  daughter,  a  young 
and  lovely  girl,  for  whom  he  feared  when  the 
lawless  servants  of  the  bishop  entered  Caio. 

But  all  could  not  take  refuge  in  the  mountains, 
even  if  they  had  places  there  to  which  to  retire. 
There  were  their  cattle  to  be  attended  to  in  the 
valley ;  the  grass  on   the   heights  was  burnt,  and 


84  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

would  not  shoot  again  till  spring.  The  equinoc- 
tial gales  were  due,  and  rarely  failed  to  keep  their 
appointments.  There  were  mothers  expecting 
additions  to  their  families,  and  little  children  who 
could  not  be  exposed  to  the  privations  and  cold 
of  the  uplands.  There  were  no  stores  on  the 
mountains ;  hay  and  corn  were  stacked  by  the 
homes  in  the  valley. 

Some  said,  "  What  more  can  these  strangers  do 
than  they  have  done?  Do  they  come,  indeed,  to 
thrust  on  us  a  new  pastor?  They  will  not  drive 
us  with  their  pikes  into  church  to  hear  what  he 
has  to  say  !  They  are  not  bringing  with  them  a 
batch  of  Flemings  to  occupy  our  farms  and  take 
from  us  our  cornland  and  pasture  !  The  Norman 
is  no  peaceful  agriculturist,  and  he  must  live; 
therefore  he  will  let  the  native  work  on,  that  he 
may  eat  out  of  his  hands."  And,  again,  others 
said  :  "  There  will  be  time  enough  to  escape  when 
they  flourish  their  swords  in  our  faces."  But 
even  such  as  resolved  to  remain  concealed  their 
valuables. 

The  basin  of  the  sanctuary  was  extensive ;  it 
was  some  seven  miles  long  and  five  at  its  widest, 
but  along  the  slopes  of  the  hills  that  broke  the 
evenness  of  its  bottom  and  on  the  side  of  the  con- 


WHAT  MUST  BE  85 

tinuous  mountains  were  scattered  numerous  habi- 
tations. And  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  for 
those  on  high  ground  commanding  the  roads  to 
take  to  flight  when  the  men-at-arms  were  observed 
to  be  coming  their  way. 

Howel  entered  the  presbytery. 

Like  every  other  house  in  Wales,  excepting  those 
of  the  great  princes,  it  comprised  but  two  cham- 
bers— that  which  served  as  hall  and  kitchen,  into 
which  the  door  opened,  and  the  bed-chamber  on 
one  side.  There  was  no  upper  story ;  its  conse- 
quence as  the  residence  of  the  chief  was  indicated 
by  a  detached  structure,  like  a  barn,  that  served 
as  banqueting-hall  on  festive  occasions,  and  where, 
indeed,  all  such  as  came  on  Sundays  from  dis- 
tances tarried  and  ate  after  divine  service,  and 
awaited  the  vespers  which  were  performed  early 
in  the  afternoon.  There  were  stables,  also,  to 
accommodate  the  horses  of  those  who  came  to 
church,  or  to  pay  their  respects,  and  to  feast  with 
their  chief. 

With  the  exception  of  these  disconnected  build- 
ings, the  house  presented  the  character  of  a  Welsh 
cottage  of  the  day  in  which  we  live.  It  was  defi- 
cient in  attempt  at  ornament,  and,  unlike  a  medi- 
eval edifice  of  the  rest  of  Europe,  lacked  pictur- 


86  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

esqueness.  At  the  present,  a  Welsh  cottage  or 
farmhouse  is,  indeed,  of  stone,  and  is  ugly. 

Although  the  presbytery  was  lacking  in  beauty, 
of  outline  and  detail,  it  was  convenient  as  a  dwell- 
ing. As  Howel  entered,  he  saw  that  the  body  of 
the  hermit  still  lay  exposed,  preparatory  to  burial, 
with  the  candles  burning  at  its  head.  But  Mor- 
wen  was  the  sole  person  in  attendance  on  it,  as 
the  professional  waller  had  decamped  to  secrete 
the  few  coins  she  possessed,  and,  above  all,  to  con- 
vey to  and  place  under  the  protection  of  the 
Church  a  side  of  bacon,  the  half  of  a  pig,  on 
which  she  calculated  to  subsist  during  the 
winter. 

By  the  side  of  the  fire  sat  a  lean,  sharp-featured 
boy,  with  high  cheek-bones ;  a  lad  uncouth  in 
appearance,  for  one  shoulder  was  higher  than  the 
other. 

He  stirred  the  logs  with  his  foot,  and  when  he 
found  one  that  was  burnt  through,  stooped,  sepa- 
rated the  ends,  and  reversed  them  in  the  fire. 

This  was  Goronwy  Cam,  kinsman  of  Pabo,  the 
son  of  the  late  Archpriest,  who  had  been  passed 
over  for  the  chieftainship,  partly  on  account  of 
his  youth,  mainly  because  of  his  deformity,  which 
disqualified  him  for  the  ecclesiastical  state. 


WHAT  MUST  BE  87 

He  lived  in  the  presbyter>'  with  his  cousin,  was 
kindly,  affectionately  treated  by  him,  and  was  not 
a  little  humored  by  Morwen,  who  pitied  his  con- 
dition, forgave  his  perversity  of  temper,  and  was 
too  familiar  with  ill-humors,  experienced  during 
her  mother's  life,  to  resent  his  outbreaks  of  pet- 
ulance. 

"  Go  forth,  Goronwy,"  said  Howel.  "  Bid  Mor- 
gan see  that  the  grave  for  our  dead  saint  be  made 
ready.  They  are  like  to  forget  their  duties  to  the 
dead  in  their  care  for  themselves.  Bid  him  expe- 
dite the  work  of  the  sexton." 

"  Why  should  I  go  ?     I  am  engaged  here." 

"  Engaged  in  doing  nothing.  Go  at  once  and 
speak  with  Morgan.  Time  presses  too  hard  for 
empty  civilities." 

"  You  have  no  right  to  order  me,  none  to  send 
me  from  this  house." 

"  I  have  a  right  in  an  emergency  to  see  that  all 
be  done  that  is  requisite  for  the  good  of  the  living, 
and  for  the  repose  of  the  dead.  Do  you  not 
know,  boy,  that  the  enemy  are  on  their  way 
hither,  and  that  when  they  arrive  you  will  no 
further  have  this  as  your  home?" 

"  Goronwy,  be  kind  and  do  as  desired,"  said 
Morwen. 


88  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

The  young  man  left,  muttering.  He  looked 
but  a  boy ;  he  was  in  fact  a  man. 

When  he  had  passed  beyond  earshot,  Morwen 
said,  "  Do  not  be  short  with  the  lad  ;  he  has  much 
to  bear,  his  infirmities  of  body  are  ever  present  to 
his  mind,  and  he  can  ill  endure  the  thought  that 
but  for  them  he  would  have  been  chief  in  Caio." 

"  I  have  not  come  hither  to  discuss  Goronwy 
and  his  sour  humors,"  said  Howel;  "but  to  an- 
nounce to  you  that  Pabo  is  gone." 

"Whither?" 

"  That  I  do  not  know." 

"  For  how  long?  " 

"  That  also  I  cannot  say." 

"  Is  he  in  danger?  "  Morwen's  color  fled,  and 
she  put  her  hand  to  her  bosom. 

"  At  present  he  is  in  none ;  for  how  long  he 
will  be  free  I  cannot  say,  and  something  depends 
on  you." 

"  On  me  !  I  will  do  anything,  everything  for 
im, 

"  To-morrow  the  sleuth-hounds  wall  be  after 
him  :  his  safety  lies  in  remaining  hid," 

"  But  why  has  he  not  come  to  me  and  told  me 
so  ? 

"  Because  it  is  best  that  you  know  nothing,  not 


WHAT  MUST  BE  89 

even  the  direction  he  has  taken  in  his  flight.  Be 
not  afraid — he  is  safe  so  long  as  he  remains  con- 
cealed. As  for  you  and  that  boy,  ye  shall  both 
come  to  my  house,  for  to-morrow  he  will  be  here 
who  will  claim  this  as  his  own.  The  bishop  who 
has  stepped  into  David's  seat  has  sent  him  to  dis- 
possess our  Archpriest  of  all  his  rights,  and  to 
transfer  them  to  Cadell,  his  chaplain." 

"  But  it  is  not  possible.  He  does  not  belong 
to  the  tribe." 

"  What  care  these  aliens  about  our  rights  and 
our  liberties?  With  the  mailed  fists  they  beat 
down  all  law." 

"  And  he  will  take  from  us  our  house  ?  " 

"  If  you  suffer  him," 

"  How  can  I,  a  poor  woman,  resist  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  ask  you  to  resist." 

"  Then  what  do  you  require  of  me?  " 

"  Leave  him  no  house  into  which  to  step  and 
which  he  may  call  his  own." 

"  I  understand  you  not." 

"  Morwen,  say  farewell  you  must  to  these  walls 
— this  roof.  It  will  dishonor  them  to  become  the 
shelter  of  the  renegade,  after  it  has  been  the  home 
of  such  as  you  and  Pabo,  and  the  Archpriests  of 
our  race  and  tribe  for  generations — aye,  and  after 


90  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

it  has  been  consecrated  by  the  body  of  this  saint." 
He  indicated  the  dead  hermit. 

"  But  again  I  say,  I  do  not  understand.  What 
would  you  have  me  do?  " 

"  Do  this,  Morwen."  Howel  dropped  his  voice 
and  drew  nearer  to  her.  He  laid  hold  of  her  wrist. 
"  Set  fire  to  the  presbytery.  The  wind  is  from 
the  east ;  it  will  cause  the  hall  to  blaze  also." 

She  looked  at  him  in  dismay  and  doubt. 

"  To  me,  and  away  from  this,  thou  must  come, 
and  that  boy  with  thee.  Thou  wouldest  not  have 
Pabo  taken  from  thee  and  given  to  some  Saxon 
woman.  So,  suffer  not  this  house  that  thou 
art  deprived  of  to  become  the  habitation  of 
another — one  false  to  his  blood  and  to  his 
duties." 

"  I  cannot,"  she  said,  and  looked  about  her  at 
the  walls,  at  every  object  against  them,  at  the 
hearth,  endeared  to  her  by  many  ties.  "  I  cannot 
— I  cannot,"  and  then  :  "  Indeed  I  cannot  with 
him  here," — and  she  indicated  the  corpse. 

"  It  is  with  him  here  that  the  house  must  burn," 
said  Howel. 

"  Burn  the  hermit — the  man  of  God  !  " 

"  It  would  be  his  will,  could  he  speak,"  said 
Howel.     "  He,  throughout  his  life,  gave  his  body 


WHAT  MUST  BE  91 

to  harsh  treatment  and  treated  it  as  the  enemy  of 
his  soul.  Now  out  of  Heaven  he  looks  down  and 
bids  you — he  as  a  saint  in  light — do  this  thing. 
He  withholds  not  his  cast-off  tabernacle,  if  thereby 
he  may  profit  some." 

"  Nay,  let  him  be  honorably  buried,  and  then, 
if  thou  desirest  it,  let  the  house  blaze." 

"  It  must  be,  Morwen,  as  I  say.  Hearken  to 
me.  When  they  come  to-morrow  they  will  find 
the  presbytery  destroyed  by  fire,  and  we  will  say 
that  the  Archpriest  has  perished  in  it." 

"  But  they  will  know  it  is  not  so.  See  his  snowy 
beard  ! " 

"  Will  the  flames  spare  those  white  hairs  ?  " 

"  Yet  all  know — all  in  Caio." 

"And  I  can  trust  them  all.  When  the  oppres- 
sor is  strong  the  weak  must  be  subtle.  Aye,  and 
they  will  be  as  one  man  to  deceive  him,  for  they 
hate  him,  and  they  love  their  true  priest." 

"  I  cannot  do  it." 

"  It  may  be  that  the  truth  will  come  out  in  a 
week,  a  month — I  cannot  say ;  but  time  will  be 
gained  for  Pabo  to  escape,  and  every  day  is  of 
importance." 

"If  it  must  be — but,  O  Howel,  it  is  hard,  and 
it  seemeth  to  me  unrighteous." 


92  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  It  is  no  unrighteousness  to  do  that  which 
must  be." 

"And  it  must?" 

"  Morwen,  you  shall  not  lay  the  fire.  I  will  do 
it — but  done  it  must  be." 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   CELL   ON    MALLAEN 

At  the  back  of  Caio  church  and  village  stretches 
a  vast  mountain  region  that  extends  in  tossed  and 
rearing  waves  of  moorland  and  crag  for  miles  to 
the  north  ;  and  indeed,  Mynedd  Mallaen  is  but 
the  southern  extremity  of  that  chain  which  extends 
from  Montgomeryshire  and  Merioneth,  and  of 
which  Plinlimmon  is  one  of  the  finest  heads. 

The  elevated  and  barren  waste  is  traversed  here 
and  there  by  streams— the  Cothy,  the  Camdwr 
the  Doeth — but  these  are  through  restricted  and 
uninhabited  ravines,  Mynedd  Mallaen,  the  south- 
ernmost projection  of  this  range,  is  a  huge  bulk 
united  to  the  main  mountain  system  by  a  slight 
connecting  ridge,  between  the  gorge  of  the  Cothy 
and  a  tributary  of  the  Towy. 

North  of  this  extends  far  the  territory  of  Caio, 

over   barren    wilderness,    once   belonging   to   the 

tribe  now  delimited  as  a  parish  some  sixteen  miles 

in  length. 

93 


94  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

On  leaving  the  Council  Hall,  Pabo  tarried  but 
for  a  few  minutes  in  converse  with  Howel,  and 
then  ascended  the  glen  down  which  brawled  the 
Annell.  The  flanks  of  mountain  on  each  side 
were  clothed  with  heath  and  heather  now  fast 
losing  their  bells,  and  were  gorgeous  with  bracken, 
turned  to  copper  and  gold  by  the  touch  of  the 
finger  of  Death. 

He  pursued  his  way  without  pause  along  the 
track  trodden  by  those  who  visited  the  rock  of 
Cynwyl,  where  annually  the  waters  were  stirred 
with  his  staff. 

But  on  reaching  this  spot,  Pabo  halted  and 
looked  into  the  sliding  water  that  swirled  in  the 
reputed  kneeholes  worn  by  the  saint  in  the  rocky 
bed.  A  pebble  was  in  one,  being  eddied  about, 
and,  notwithstanding  the  distress  of  mind  in  which 
was  Pabo,  he  did  not  fail  to  notice  this  as  an 
explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  depressions. 
Dreamy,  imaginative  though  he  might  be,  he  had 
also  a  fund  of  common  sense. 

The  spot  was  lonely  and  beautiful,  away  from 
the  strife  of  men  and  the  noise  of  tongues.  The 
stillness  was  broken  only  by  the  ripple  of  the 
water  and  the  hum  of  the  wind  in  the  dried  fern. 
The  evening  sun  lit   up   the  mountain    heights. 


THE  CELL  ON  MALLAEN  95 

already  glorious  with  dying  fern,  with  an  oriole  of 
incomparable  splendor. 

The  great  stone  slept  where  it  had  lodged  beside 
the  stream,  and  was  mantled  with  soft  velvet 
mosses  and  dappled  with  many-colored  lichen.  It 
was  upon  its  summit,  doubtless,  that  the  old 
Apostle  had  knelt — not  in  the  bed  of  the  torrent, 
although  the  folk  insisted  on  the  latter,  misled  by 
the  hollows  worn  in  the  rock. 

Pabo,  moved  by  an  inward  impulse,  mounted 
the  block,  wrenched,  like  himself,  from  its  proper 
place  and  cast  far  away,  never  to  return  to  it. 
Never  to  return.  That  thought  filled  his  mind  ; 
he  need  not  attempt  to  delude  himself  with  hopes. 
The  past  was  gone  forever,  with  its  peace  and  love 
and  happiness.  Peace — broken  by  the  sound  of 
the  Norman's  steel,  happiness  departed  with  it. 
Love,  indeed,  might,  must  remain,  but  under  a 
new  form — no  more  sweet,  but  painful,  full  of 
apprehensions,  full  of  torture. 

Discouragement  came  over  him  like  the  cold 
dews  that  were  settling  in  the  valley  now  that 
the  sun  was  withdrawn.  Where  the  Norman 
had  penetrated  thence  he  would  have  to  depart. 
The  sanctuary  had  been  broken  into — and  the 
Angel  of  Peace,  bearing  the  palm,  had  spread  her 


96  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

wings.  He  looked  aloft :  a  swan  was  sailing 
through  the  sky,  the  evening  glory  turning  her 
silver  feathers  to  gold.  Even  thus — even  thus — 
leaving  the  land ;  but  not,  like  that  swan,  to  re- 
turn at  another  season. 

Pabo  knelt  on  that  stone.  He  put  his  hand  to 
his  brow  ;  it  was  wet  with  cold  drops,  just  as  the 
herbage,  as  the  moss,  were  being  also  studded  with 
crystal  condensations. 

He  prayed,  turning  his  eyes  to  the  sunlight  that 
touched  the  heights  of  the  west ;  prayed  till  the 
ray  was  withdrawn,  and  the  mountain-head  was 
silvery  and  no  longer  golden. 

Then,  strengthened  in  spirit,  he  left  the  block 
and  resumed  his  course. 

Without  telling  Howel  whither  he  would  betake 
himself,  Pabo  had  agreed  with  him  on  a  means  of 
intercommunication  in  case  of  emergency.  Upon 
the  stone  of  Cynwyl,  Howel  was  to  place  one 
rounded  water-worn  pebble  as  a  token  to  flee 
farther  into  the  depths  of  the  mountains,  whereas 
two  stones  were  to  indicate  a  recall  to  Caio.  In 
like  manner  was  Pabo  to  express  his  wants,  should 
any  arise. 

The  refugee  now  ascended  the  steep  mountain 
flank,  penetrating   farther   into  the  wilderness,  till 


THE  CELL  ON  MALLAEN  97 

at  last  he  reached  some  fangs  of  rock,  under 
which  was  a  rude  habitation  constructed  of  stones 
put  together  without  mortar,  the  interstices  stopped 
with  clay  and  moss. 

It  leaned  against  the  rock,  which  constituted 
one  wall  of  the  habitation,  and  against  which 
rested  the  rafters  of  the  roof.  A  furrow  had  been 
cut  in  the  rock,  horizontally,  so  as  to  intercept 
the  rain  that  ran  down  the  face  and  divert  it  on  to 
the  incline  of  the  roof. 

The  door  was  unfastened  and  was  swaying  on 
its  hinges  in  the  wind  with  creak  and  groan.  Pabo 
entered,  and  was  in  the  cell  of  the  deceased  hermit, 
in  which  the  old  man  had  expended  nearly  half 
his  life. 

A  small  but  unfailing  spring  oozed  from  the 
foot  of  the  rocks,  as  Pabo  was  aware,  a  few  paces 
below  the  hermitage. 

The  habitation  was  certain  not  to  be  deficient  in 
supplies  of  food,  and  on  searching  Pabo  found  a 
store  of  grain,  a  heap  of  roots,  and  a  quern.  There 
was  a  hearth  on  which  he  might  bake  cakes,  and 
he  found  the  anchorite's  tinder,  flint  and  steel. 

The  day  had  by  this  time  closed  in,  and  Pabo 

at  once  endeavored  to  light  a  fire.     He  had  been 

heated  with  the  steep  ascent,  but  this  warmth  was 
7 


98  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

passing  away,  and  he  felt  chilled.  At  this  height 
the  air  was  colder  and  the  wind  keener.  There  were 
sticks  and  dry  heather  and  fern  near  the  hearth, 
but  Pabo  failed  in  all  his  efforts  to  kindle  a  blaze. 
Sparks  flew  from  the  flint,  but  would  not  ignite 
the  spongy  fungus  that  served  as  tinder.  It  had 
lain  too  many  days  on  a  stone,  and  had  become 
damp.  After  fruitless  attempts,  Pabo  placed  the 
amadou  in  his  bosom,  in  hopes  of  drying  it  by  the 
heat  of  his  body,  and  drew  the  hermit's  blanket 
over  his  shoulders  as  he  seated  himself  on  the  bed, 
which  was  but  a  board. 

All  was  now  dark  within.  The  window  was  but 
a  slit  in  the  wall,  and  was  unglazed.  The  cabin 
was  drafty,  for  there  was  not  merely  the  window 
by  which  the  wind  could  enter,  but  the  door  as 
well  was  but  imperfectly  closed,  and  in  the  roof 
was  the  smoke-hole. 

What  a  life  the  hermit  must  have  led  in  this 
remote  spot !  Pabo  might  have  considered  that 
now,  feeling  this  experience,  but,  indeed,  his  mind 
was  too  fully  occupied  with  his  own  troubles  to 
give  a  thought  to  those  of  another. 

Shivering  under  the  blanket,  that  seemed  to 
have  no  warmth  in  it,  he  leaned  his  brow  in  his 
hand,  and  mused  on  the  dangers,  distresses,  that 


THE  CELL  ON  MALLAEN  99 

menaced  his  tribe,  his  race,  his  wife,  and  which  he 
was  powerless  to  avert. 

Prince  Griffith  might  raise  the  standard  and 
rouse  to  arms,  but  it  was  in  vain  for  Pabo  to  hug 
himself  in  the  hope  of  success  and  freedom  for  his 
people  by  this  means.  The  north  of  Wales  was 
controlled  by  a  king  who  had  violated  the  rights 
of  hospitality  and  betrayed  his  own  kindred. 
Thus,  all  Cambria  would  not  rise  as  one  man,  and 
what  could  one  half  of  the  nation  do  against  the 
enormous  power  of  all  England  ?  Do  ?  The 
hope  of  the  young  and  the  sanguine,  and  the 
despair  of  the  old  and  experienced,  could  lead 
them  to  nothing  else  but  either  to  retreat  among 
the  mountains  and  there  die  of  hunger  and  cold,  or 
perish  gloriously  sword  in  hand  on  the  battlefield. 

Pabo  lifted  his  head,  and  looked  through  the 
gap  in  the  thatch.  A  cold  star  was  twinkling 
aloft.  A  twig  of  heather,  got  free  from  its  bands, 
was  blown  by  the  night  wind  to  and  fro  over  the 
smoke-hole,  across  the  star  now  brushing  it  out, 
then  revealing  it  again. 

The  cell  was  not  drafty  only,  it  was  also 
damp.  Pabo  felt  the  hearth.  It  was  quite  cold. 
Several  days  had  elapsed  since  the  last  sparks  on 
it  had  expired. 


loo  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

The  wind  moaned  among  the  rocks,  sighed  at 
the  window,  and  piped  through  the  crevices  about 
the  door.  A  snoring  owl  began  its  monotonous 
call.  Where  it  was  Pabo  could  not  detect.  The 
sound  came  now  from  this  side  then  from  that, 
and  next  was  behind  him.  It  was  precisely  as 
though  a  man — he  could  not  say  whether  without 
or  within — were  in  deep  stertorous  sleep. 

Again  he  endeavored  to  strike  a  light  and  kindle 
a  fire.  Sparks  he  could  elicit,  that  was  all.  The 
fungus  refused  to  ignite. 

The  cold,  the  damp,  ate  into  the  marrow  of  his 
bones.  He  collected  a  handful  of  barley-grains 
and  chewed  them,  but  they  proved  little  satisfying 
to  hunger. 

Then  he  went  forth.  He  must  exercise  his 
limbs  to  prevent  them  from  becoming  stiff,  must 
circulate  his  blood  and  prevent  it  from  coagulat- 
ing with  frost.  He  would  walk  along  the  moun- 
tain crest  to  where,  over  the  southern  edge,  he 
could  look  down  on  Caio,  on  his  lost  home,  on 
where  was  his  wife — not  sleeping,  he  knew  she 
was  not  that,  but  thinking  of  him. 

Wondrous,  past  expression,  is  that  link  of  love 
that  binds  the  man  and  his  wife.  Never  was  a 
truer  word  spoken  than   that  which  pronounced 


THE  CELL  ON  MALLAEN  loi 

them  to  be  no  more  twain,  but  one  flesh.  The 
mother  parted  from  her  nursling  knows,  feels  in 
her  breast,  in  every  fiber  of  her  being,  when  her 
child  is  weeping  and  will  not  be  comforted,  though 
parted  from  it  by  miles  ;  an  unendurable  yearning 
comes  over  her  to  hurry  to  the  wailing  infant,  to 
clasp  it  to  her  heart  and  kiss  away  its  tears.  And 
something  akin  to  this  is  that  mysterious  tie  that 
holds  together  the  man  and  his  wife.  They  can- 
not live  an  individual  life.  He  carries  the  wife 
with  him  wherever  he  be,  thinks,  feels  with  her, 
is  conscious  of  a  double  existence  fused  into  a 
unity  ;  and  what  is  true  of  the  husband  is  true 
also  of  the  wife. 

It  was  now  with  Pabo  as  though  he  were  irresis- 
tibly drawn  in  the  direction  of  Caio,  where  he 
knew  that  Morwen  was  with  tears  on  her  cheeks, 
her  gentle,  suffering  heart  full  of  him  and  his 
desolation  and  banishment. 

The  night  was  clear,  there  w^as  actually  not  much 
wind;  but  autumn  rawness  was  in  the  air. 

To  the  west  still  hung  a  dying  halo,  very  faint, 
and  the  ground,  covered  with  short  grass,  was 
dimly  white  where  pearled  with  dew,  each  pearl 
catching  something  of  the  starlight  from  above. 

But  aw^ay,  to  the  south,  was  a  lurid  glow,  against 


I02  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

which  the  rounded  head  of  Mallaen  stood  out  as 
ink. 

Pabo  thrust  on  his  way,  running  when  he  could, 
and  anon  stumbling  over  plots  of  gorse  or  among 
stones. 

At  length  he  came  out  upon  the  brow,  Bronfifin, 
and  looked  down  into  the  broad  basin  of  Caio. 
Below  him  was  a  fire.  It  had  burned  itself  out, 
and  lay  a  bed  of  glowing  cinders,  with  smoke 
curling  above  it,  lighted  and  turned  red  by  the 
reflection  of  the  fire  below.  Now  and  then  a 
lambent  flame  sprang  up,  and  then  died  away 
again. 

The  sound  of  voices  came  up  from  beneath  :  it 
was  pleasant  to  Pabo  to  hear  voices,  but  in  his 
heart  was  unutterable  pain.  He  looked  down  on 
the  glowing  ruins  of  his  presbytery — where  he  had 
lived  and  been  so  happy. 

Hour  after  hour  he  sat  on  the  mountain-edge, 
watching  the  slowly  contracting  and  fading  glow, 
hearing  the  sounds  of  life  gradually  die  away. 

Then  above  the  range  to  the  left  rose  the  moon, 
and  silvered  the  white  ribbon  of  the  Sarn  Helen, 
the  paved  road  of  the  old  Queen  of  British  race 
who  had  married  the  Roman  Emperor  Maxentius, 
and  illumined  the  haze  that  hung  over  the  river- 


THE  CELL  ON  MALLAEN  103 

beds,  and  far  away  behind  Pen-y-d'dinas  formed  a 
cloud  over  the  two  tarns  occupying  the  bottom  of 
the  valley. 

But  all  the  while  Pabo  looked  only  at  one  and 
then  at  another  point — this,  the  fiery  reek  of  his 
home,  that  a  spot  whence  shone  a  small  and  feeble 
light — the  house  of  Howel  the  Tall,  beneath 
whose  roof  watched  and  wept  his  dearest  treasure, 
Morwen.  When  midnight  was  overpassed,  and 
none  stirred,  then  did  Pabo  descend  from  the 
heights  and  approach  the  ashes  of  his  home.  At 
the  glowing  embers  he  dried  the  tinder.  Then  he 
caught  up  a  smoldering  brand,  turned  and  re- 
ascended  the  mountain,  with  the  fire  from  his 
ruined  hearth  wherewith  to  kindle  that  in  his 
hovel  of  refuge. 


CHAPTER  XI 

A   MIRACLE 

Had  one  been  on  Bronffin,  the  mountain-brow 
overhanging  Caio,  on  the  following  morning, 
strange  would  have  been  the  scene  witnessed. 

Those  of  the  inhabitants  who  had  not  fled  were 
engaged  in  the  obsequies  of  the  hermit  who  had 
been  burned  when  the  presbytery  took  fire,  and 
whose  charred  remains  had  been  extricated  from 
the  ruins. 

The  corpse  was  borne  on  a  bier  covered  with  a 
white  sheet ;  and  men  and  women  accompanied, 
chanting  an  undulating  wail-like  dirge,  while  the 
priest  from  Llansawell — a  daughter  church — pre- 
ceded the  body. 

Simultaneously  arrived  a  number  of  armed  men, 

retainers  of  the  bishop,  under  the  command  of  his 

brother,  with   the  chaplain   Cadell  in  their  midst, 

accompanied  by  the  Dean   of  Llandeilo  and  his 

deacon.     Rogier  had  recovered  the  use  of  his  arm, 
104 


A  MIRACLE  105 

which  was,  however,  still  somewhat  stiff  In  the 
joint  from  the  blow  he  had  received. 

Their  arrival  disturbed  the  procession,  for  the 
newcomers  rode  through  the  train  of  wailers  mani- 
festing supreme  indifference  with  regard  to  the 
proceedings. 

"Put  down  yon  bier!"  ordered  Rogier;  and 
then,  because  none  comprehended  his  words,  he 
made  imperious  gestures  that  could  not  be  mis- 
taken. He  was  obeyed  by  the  bearers,  and  the 
mourners  parted  and  stood  back,  while  the  armed 
men  filled  in  about  the  chaplain  and  their 
leader. 

Cadell  rose  in  his  stirrups  and  called  in  Welsh 
for  silence,  that  he  might  be  heard. 

Then,  addressing  the  inhabitants  in  loud  tones, 
he  said  :  "  It  is  well  that  ye  are  present,  assembled, 
without  my  having  to  call  you  together.  Ye 
shall  hear  what  has  been  decreed.  Proceed  with 
the  interment  of  the  dead  after  that.  Draw  around 
and  give  ear." 

All  obeyed,  though  slowly,  reluctantly. 

When  Cadell  saw  that  all  those  of  Caio  who 
were  gathered  to  the  funeral  were  within  earshot 
and  attention,  he  said,  speaking  articulately,  in 
sharp,  distinct   sentences,  raising  himself   in    his 


io6  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

stirrups :  "  His  fatherliness,  the  Bishop  of  St. 
David's,  by  the  grace  of  God  and  the  favor  of 
Henry  King  of  England  and  Lord  Paramount 
over  Wales,  in  consideration  of  the  disloyal  and 
irreligious  conduct  of  the  people  inhabiting  the 
so-called  Sanctuary  of  David  in  Caio,  but  forming 
an  integral  portion  of  the  patrimony  of  the  see 
when  he,  their  father  and  their  lord,  visited  the 
place  but  recently,  and  above  all,  because  the 
Archpriest  did  resist  him,  and  further,  did  not 
shun  to  lift  up  his  sacrilegious  hand  against  him, 
his  father  in  God,  and  inasmuch  as  in  the  divine 
law  communicated  to  man  from  Sinai,  it  is  com- 
manded that  he  who  smiteth  his  father  shall 
surely  be  put  to  death,  therefore  he,  their  Lord 
and  Bishop,  in  exercise  of  his  just  and  legal 
rights,  doth  require  imprimis :  That  the  said 
Archpriest,  Pabo  by  name,  shall  surrender  his 
person  to  be  tried  and  sentenced  by  the  Court 
ecclesiastical,  then  to  be  handed  over  to  the  secu- 
lar court  for  execution  ;  and,  further,  that  he  be 
esteemed  ipso  facto  and  from  this  present  inhib- 
ited from  the  discharge  of  any  sacred  office,  and 
shall  be  destituted  of  all  and  singular  beneiices 
that  he  may  hold  in  the  Menevian  diocese,  and 
that  he  be  formally  degraded  from  his  sacerdotal 


A  MIRACLE  107 

character,  by  virtue  of  the  authority  hereby  com- 
mitted to  me." 

Then  Howel  the  Tall  stood  forth,  and  approach- 
ing the  chaplain,  said,  "  Good  master  Cadell,  this 
matter  hath  already  been  decided  and  taken  out 
of  the  province  of  thy  master.  Pabo,  Archpriest 
and  hereditary  chieftain  of  the  tribe  of  Caio,  hath, 
as  saith  the  Scripture,  escaped  out  of  the  snare 
of  the  fowler.  We  are  even  now  engaged  in  the 
celebration  of  his  obsequies.  You  have  inter- 
rupted us  as  we  were  about  to  commit  his  ashes 
to  the  ground." 

"  How  so ! "  exclaimed  the  chaplain,  taken 
aback.    "  Pabo  is  not  dead  ?  " 

"  Look  around  thee,"  answered  Howel.  "  Be- 
hold how  that  fire  hath  destroyed  the  presbytery 
and  at  the  same  time  hath  consumed  him  who 
lay  therein." 

"  It  was  the  judgment  of  God  !  "  cried  Cadell. 
"  The  manifest  judgment  of  God  against  the  man 
who  lifted  his  hand  against  his  spiritual  father. 
Did    the    lightning   flash    from   heaven   to   slay 

him?" 

"  That  I  cannot  afifirm,"  said  Howel. 

"  Heaven  has  manifestly  and  miraculously  in- 
terposed," said  the  chaplain,  dismounting.     In  a 


io8  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

few  words  he  informed  his  attendants  of  what 
had  taken  place. 

"  It  is  to  be  regretted,"  said  Rogier.  "  I  had 
hoped  to  carry  a  fagot,  wherewith  to  roast 
him." 

"  It  soundeth  passing  strange,"  said  another. 

"  It  is  a  miracle,"  persisted  Cadell.  "  God  is 
with  us  and  against  those  who  resist  the  bishop. 
This  shall  be  everywhere  proclaimed." 

"  I  do  not  see  that  as  a  miracle  it  was  neces- 
sary," said  Rogier.  "  For  we  would  have  burnt 
him  all  the  same." 

"  But,"  said  the  chaplain,  "  it  was  the  will  of 
Heaven  to  reveal  that  it  is  wroth  with  this  people, 
and  is  on  our  side.  " 

Rogier  shrugged  one  shoulder. 

"  I  will  have  a  look  at  him  and  satisfy  myself," 
said  he,  strode  to  the  bier,  and  plucked  aside  the 
sheet. 

All  recoiled  at  the  object  revealed— a  human 
being  burnt  to  a  cinder. 

"  By  the  soul  of  the  Conqueror,"  said  the 
bishop's  brother,  "  methought  he  had  been  a  man 
of  more  inches." 

"He  is  shrunken  with  the  fire,"  explained 
the  chaplain. 


A  MIRACLE  109 

"  I  would  I  could  be  certain  it  Is  he,"  said 
Rogier. 

"  We  will  subject  them  to  an  oath,"  said  Cadell. 
"If  it  be  he,  then,  assuredly,  his  wife — that 
woman  whom  he  called  his  wife — will  not  be  far 
away." 

"  She  is  the  chief  mourner,"  said  Howel. 

Then  he  took  Morwen  by  the  hand  and  led  her 
forward.     "  She  is  here." 

''  Ah,  ha !  my  pretty  wench  !  "  said  Rogier, 
"  praise  Heaven  that  thou  art  released  from  thy 
leman.  We  may  find  thee  a  better  man,  and  not 
one  that  wears  the  cassock." 

"  Come  hither,"  said  the  chaplain  ;  "  I  desire 
thee  to  take  the  strictest  and  most  solemn  oath 
that  he  who  there  lieth  charred  as  a  burned  log  is 
none  other  than  Pabo  the  Archpriest,  whom  thou 
didst  call  thy  husband.  What  be  the  chief  est 
relics  here?  "  he  asked,  looking  round. 

"  We  have  but  the  staff  of  Cynwyl ;  but  that  is 
mighty  and  greatly  resorted  to,"  said  Howel. 

"  Where  is  it  ?     Bring  it  hither." 

"  I  am  the  custodian  of  the  relic,"  said  Morgan 
ap  David.  "  But  it  is  not  customary  to  produce 
it    unless    it    be  attended  and   treated   with   all 


reverence." 


no  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  Take  with  you  whom  you  will,"  said  the  chap- 
lain impatiently.  "  Faugh !  cast  again  the  pall 
over  it." 

Morgan  chose  Howel  and  another,  and  they 
departed  towards  the  church. 

After  a  few  moments'  delay  they  returned, 
Morgan  in  the  center,  bearing  the  staff. 

"  Lay  it  on  the  corpse,"  said  Cadell. 

*'  Have  a  care,"  said  Howel,  with  a  curve  in  the 
lip.  "  That  staff  has  been  known  to  have  raised 
the  dead  to  life  again." 

"  It  were  well  it  did  so  now,"  laughed  Rogier, 
when  Cadell,  somewhat  dashed,  interpreted  what 
had  been  said.  "  V  faith,  I  would  be  glad  to 
have  a  hand  in  the  second  burning  of  him." 

"  Hath  it  really  done  so?"  asked  the  chaplain. 

"There  was  Ewan,  the  son  of  Morgan  ap  Rees, 
who  fell  from  a  tree,"  said  Howel,  "  and  he  lay 
stone  dead.  Then,  full  of  faith,  his  mother  cried 
out  for  the  staff  of  Cynwyl,  and  lo !  when  it  was 
laid  on  the  lad  he  opened  his  eyes  and  spoke." 

"  Hold  it  above  the  body,"  said  the  chaplain, 
"  one  at  each  end,  so  as  not  to  touch,  and  in  such 
wise  let  the  woman  take  oath." 

Again  was  the  linen  sheet  removed,  and  now 
Morgan  and  an  attendant  sacristan  held  the  relic — 


A  MIRACLE  III 

one  at  the  head,  the  other  at  the  foot — that  it 
was  above  the  body,  yet  not  touching  it  ;  only 
the  shadow  fell  upon  it. 

"  Go  thrice  round  it,"  enjoined  Morgan,  signing 
with  his  head  to  Morwen  ;  "  thrice  from  left  to 
right,  with  the  sun,  then  lay  thine  hand  on  the 
staff  and  take  the  required  oath." 

Morwen  shuddered,  but  she  obeyed,  though 
pale  as  death.  When  she  had  made  the  third 
circuit  she  was  forced,  shrinking  and  with  averted 
head,  to  approach  the  dead  man.  Then  Cadell 
said  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Lay  thy  hand  thereon  and 
say  these  words :  '  I  take  oath  before  God  and 
Cynwyl,  before  the  saints  and  angels  in  heaven, 
in  the  face  of  sun  and  moon  and  all  men  here 
present,  that  this  is  the  dead  body  of  Pabo,  late 
Archpriest — whom  thou  didst  esteem  as  thy 
husband.'  " 

Then  Morwen  repeated,  mechanically,  the  first 
words  of  adjuration,  but  added,  in  place  of  what 
Cadell  had  recited :  "  I  take  oath  that  if  this  be 
not  Pabo,  the  Archpriest,  and  my  husband,  I 
know  not  where  he  is." 

"  That  sufificeth,"  said  Cadell.  "  And  now,"  he 
spoke  aloud,  turning  to  the  assistants,  "  seeing 
that  this  man  hath  manifestly  died  by  the  just 


112  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

judgment  of  God,  and  to  the  notable  confirma- 
tion of  the  authority  of  Bernard,  the  bishop,  I 
declare  that  he  be  treated  as  one  excommuni- 
cate, and  be  not  buried  within  consecrated 
ground." 

The  people  of  Caio  murmured  and  looked  at 
one  another  disconcerted. 

Then  Howel  went  among  them  and  whispered 
a  few  words.  Cadell  did  not  observe  him  ;  he  was 
intent  on  speaking  once  more.  That  he  might  be 
the  better  heard,  he  remounted  his  horse. 

"  Inhabitants  of  the  sanctuary  and  of  the  tribe 
of  Caio,"  said  he,  in  the  same  distinct  and  sharp 
tones  as  before.  "  I  have  something  further  to 
add.  Seciindo :  Inasmuch  as  the  Archpriest  Pabo 
hath  manifestly  perished  by  the  interposition  of 
Heaven,  thus  obviating  his  deposition  as  pur- 
posed, now  his  fatherliness,  Bernard,  Bishop  of 
Menevia,  is  graciously  pleased  to  nominate  and 
present  me,  unworthy,  to  fill  his  room ;  in  token 
whereof,  the  Dean  of  Llandeilo  accompanies,  so 
as  straightway  to  induct  me  into  all  the  offices, 
benefices,  spirituals  that  were  possessed  by  Pabo, 
the  late  Archpriest.  Tertio :  And  inasmuch  as 
the  people  of  the  territory  and  tribe  of  Caio  did 
resist  and  mutinously  assail  the  servants  of  the 


A  MIRACLE  113 

bishop,  he  imposes  on  them  a  fine  of  a  mark  in 
silver  per  house,  great  and  small,  to  be  collected 
and  paid  within  one  month  from  this  day,  until 
which  time  his  attendants  now  accompanying  me 
shall  have  free  quarters  and  entertainment  for 
themselves  and  their  beasts  among  you." 

His  words  filled  all  with  dismay.  None  an- 
swered. 

Then  said  Rogier  laughingly :  "  I'  faith,  while 
Providence  punished  the  late  Archpriest,  it  did 
not  mightily  favor  the  incomer,  for  it  hath  con- 
sumed his  presbytery." 

"  The  hall  still  standeth,"  said  Cadell  sternly. 
"  Are  we  to  question  the  ways  of  Heaven  !  " 

"  'Ods  life,"  pursued  Rogier  mockingly,  "  wno 
would  ever  have  considered  my  brother  a  saint,  and 
one  to  be  sustained  by  miracles ;  and  he,  but  the 
other  day,  as  great  a  Jew  in  grinding  the  peasants, 
and  wringing  the  blood  from  their  noses,  as  any 
son  of  Abraham.  By  the  paunch  of  the  Conqueror 
— and  taking  tithe  and  toll  therefrom  to  his  own 
benefit !  Well !  If  Heaven  be  not  nice  in  whom 
it  proclaims  as  saints.  There  is  good  hope  for 
such  as  me." 

Somewhat  later,  the  new  Archpriest  indited  the 
following  letter  to  his  ecclesiastical  superior — 


114  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  Cadell,  Archpriest  of  Caio,  to  Bernard,  Lord 
Bishop  of  St.  David's,  sendeth  humbly  greeting, 
with  much  filial  affection. 

"  This  is  to  inform  your  fatherliness  that  it  has 
pleasured  Heaven — which  is  wondrous  in  the 
saints,  to  vindicate  thy  sanctity  in  a  very  special  and 
marvelous  manner.  It  is  now  many  hundred  years 
ago  since  David,  the  holy,  founded  the  bishopric 
of  Menevia,  and  primacy  over  all  Cambria ;  and  it 
is  said  he  was  thereto  ordained  and  appointed  by 
the  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem.  Now  it  is  a  notable 
fact  that  there  was  a  certain  Boia,  a  chief  of  the 
land,  who  mightily  opposed  him.  Then  fell  fire 
from  Heaven  in  the  night,  and  consumed  Boia 
and  his  wife  and  all  that  he  had,  in  witness  thereto 
remaineth  the  Cleggyr  Voia,  his  ruined  and  burnt 
castle,  unto  this  day.  Since  then  many  have  been 
the  bishops  who  have  sat  in  the  seat  of  David, 
and  many  also  have  been  those  who  have  opposed 
them.  The  Northmen  have  slain  some,  and  have 
expelled  others,  yet  did  not  Heaven  interfere  in 
their  behalf.  Nevertheless,  no  sooner  art  thou, 
Bernard,  appointed  and  consecrated  to  this  see, 
than  have  thy  right  and  thy  holiness  been  vindi- 
cated miraculously  in  the  sight  of  all.  For  the 
Archpriest  and  chief  Pabo  did  oppose  thee  even 


A  MIRACLE  115 

as  did  Boia  oppose  David.  And  each  was  smitten 
in  the  same  way.  Manifestly  in  the  sight  of  all 
men,  fire  fell  from  Heaven  and  consumed  him 
who  sacrilegiously  lifted  his  hand  against  thee, 
him  and  all  his  house,  whereof  we  are  witnesses — 
to  wit,  thy  brother  Rogier,  the  Dean  of  Llandeilo, 
and  all  thy  servants  and  the  people  of  Caio,  as 
well  as  my  unworthy  self,  thy  servant,  who  beheld 
him — the  transgressor — burned  as  a  charred  log, 
blasted  by  Heaven.  And  forasmuch  as  he  per- 
ished by  the  judgment  of  God,  I  have  bidden 
give  to  him  but  the  burial  of  an  ass. 

"  Be  this  known  unto  all  men,  and  it  will 
mightily  extend  the  fear  of  thee,  and  dissuade 
men  from  temerariously  resisting  thy  just  au- 
thority, whether  in  the  diocese  or  throughout 
Wales." 

When  the  chaplain  had  written  this,  as  he  sealed 
it,  he  said  to  Rogier,  "  It  is  so  wonderful,  he  will 
hardly  credit  it." 

"  My  good  Cadell,"  replied  the  Norman  advent- 
urer, "  I  know  my  brother  better  even  than  do 
you.  He  is  so  inordinately  vain  that  he  would 
believe  if  you  told  him  that  the  sun  and  moon 
had  bowed  down  to  worship  him.  But  I — whether 
I  believe  this,  that  is  another  matter." 


ii6  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  But  I  believe  it — that  I  solemnly  affirm,"  said 
Cadell. 

"  And,  further,  do  you  not  recollect  that  his 
fatherliness,  the  Bishop,  did  threaten  as  much, 
when  he  was  here,  and  the  Archpriest  resisted 
him?  Did  he  not  say,  can  I  not  send  lightning 
to  consume  thee? — and  lo !  it  has  fallen,  even  as 
he  said." 


CHAPTER  XII 

GORONWY 

The  Blessed  Valley,  which  for  nearly  five 
hundred  years  had  enjoyed  the  "  Peace  of  Dewi," 
which  had  remained  untroubled  in  the  midst  of 
the  most  violent  commotions,  was  now  a  prey  to 
the  spoiler. 

Throughout  the  whole  basin  all  was  trouble. 
The  armed  men,  servants  of  the  bishop,  for  the 
most  part  Normans  or  Englishmen,  but  some 
Welshmen  who  had  taken  service  under  the  op- 
pressors of  their  countrymen,  were  dispersed 
through  the  district. 

Ostensibly  they  were  engaged  in  numbering  the 

hearths,  for  the  exaction  of  the  fine,  but  with  this 

they  did   not   content  themselves.     They  entered 

every  house,  and  conducted  themselves  therein  as 

masters,  aware  that  they  were  not  likely  to   be 

called  to  order  for  the  grossest  outrages  by  either 

Rogier  or  by  the  bishop. 

117 


ii8  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

They  demanded  food  and  drink,  they  ransacked 
the  habitations  and  plundered  them.  They 
wasted  what  they  could  not  consume,  and  de- 
stroyed what  they  did  not  take.  The  men  they 
treated  with  contumely  and  the  women  with  insult. 

A  farmer  who  had  a  hafod,  a  summer  byre,  as 
well  as  a  hendre,  a  winter  residence,  must  pay  for 
both.  The  poorest  squatter  would  be  forced  to 
contribute  as  well  as  the  wealthiest  proprietor. 
"  A  mark  of  silver  for  a  house,"  said  Rogier; 
"  settle  it  among  you  how  the  money  is  to  be  ex- 
tracted. The  rich  will  pay  for  the  poor.  In  a 
fortnight  we  shall  have  every  hearth  registered." 

One  wretched  man,  whose  hovel  had  been 
broken  into,  set  fire  to  it.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  shall 
not  be  counted.  I  have  no  house  now,  no  roof, 
no  hearth.     Therefore  it  shall  not  be  reckoned  in." 

"  It  was  recorded  before  you  set  it  in  flames," 
was  the  answer.     "  It  pays  all  the  same." 

A  father  attempting  to  defend  his  daughter 
against  one  of  the  dissolute  soldiers  received  a 
blow  on  his  head  which  cut  it  open  and  cast  him 
senseless  on  the  ground.  He  lay  in  a  precarious 
condition  ;  and  the  girl  had  been  carried  off. 

A  lone  woman,  aged,  and  a  widow  dependent 
on  the   charity  of   the   neighbors,  through  their 


GORONWY  119 

dispersion,  or  through  forgetfulness,  had  died  in 
soHtude,  by  starvation. 

Several  well  to-do  men,  landowners,  in  attempt- 
ing to  resist  the  plunderers  had  been  unmercifully 
beaten. 

It  was  an  open  secret  that  Rogier  was  seeking 
in  all  directions  for  the  beautiful  Morwen  ;  but 
Tall  Howel  had  the  cunning  to  evade  his  search, 
by  moving  her  about  from  house  to  house. 

On  Sunday,  with  the  exception  of  some  of  the 
soldiers,  hardly  any  natives  appeared  in  the 
church.  The  few  who  did  show  were  some  old 
women.  It  transpired  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Caio  district  had  gone  for  their  religious  duties  to 
some  of  the  chapels,  of  which  there  were  at  least 
six,  scattered  over  the  territory  of  the  tribe, 
where  they  had  been  ministered  to  by  the  assistant 
clergy. 

When  this  came  to  Cadell's  ears,  he  had  his 
horse  saddled,  and  attended  by  some  of  the  men- 
at-arms,  rode  to  the  residences  of  these  vicars, 
dismissed  them  from  their  of^ces,  and  had  them 
removed  by  the  bishop's  retainers  and  thrust  over 
the  borders,  with  a  threat  of  imprisonment  should 
they  return. 

On  the  following  Sunday  the  church  of  Cynwyl 


I20  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

was  as  deserted  as  before.  "  He  has  deprived  us 
of  our  pastors,"  said  the  people.  "  He  cannot 
rob  us  of  our  God." 

Then  as  Cadell  learned  that  they  had  assembled 
in  the  chapels,  and  had  united  in  prayer  under  the 
conduct  of  one  of  the  elders,  he  rode  round  again, 
and  had  the  roofs  of  these  chapels  removed. 

"  This  is  better,"  said  the  people.  *'  There  is 
naught  now  betwixt  us  and  God.  He  will  hear 
us  the  readier." 

The  day  arrived  for  the  benediction  of  the 
waters  of  the  Annell.  Then  it  transpired  that  the 
rod  of  Cynwyl  had  been  abstracted  from  the 
church.  In  a  rage,  Cadell  sent  for  the  hereditary 
custodian. 

Morgan  appeared  with  imperturbable  face. 
"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "  this  comes  of  having  here  such 
godless  rascals  as  you  have,  foreigners  who  respect 
nothing  human  and  divine.  You  brought  forth 
the  staff  to  lay  it  on  the  body — and  this  before 
all  eyes.  These  rapacious  men  saw  that  there 
was  gold  on  the  case,  and  that  stones  of  price  were 
encrusted  therein.  Had  they  stolen  the  case  and 
left  the  wooden  staff,  it  would  not  have  mattered 
greatly.  But  what  to  them  are  the  merits  of  one 
of  our  great  saints  ?     They  regard  them  not." 


GORONWY  121 

Rogier  now  considered  that  it  were  well  to 
hasten  matters  to  a  conclusion.  He  accordingly 
sent  round  messengers  to  every  principal  farm- 
house to  summon  a  meeting  of  the  elders  in  the 
council-house,  that  he  might  know  whether  they 
were  ready  v/ith  the  fine,  and  what  measures  they 
had  taken  to  raise  it. 

Cadell  was  dissatisfied  and  uneasy.  He  sat 
ruminating  over  the  fire.  The  hall  that  had  es- 
caped being  burnt  had  been  accommodated  for  his 
occupation  without  much  difficulty,  as  such  articles 
as  were  needed  to  furnish  it  were  requisitioned 
without  scruple  from  the  householders  of  Caio. 

But  Cadell  was  discontented.  In  a  few  days 
the  bishop's  servants,  who  had  brought  him  to  the 
place  and  had  seen  him  there  installed,  would  be 
withdrawn.  Then  he  would  be  left  alone  in  the 
midst  of  a  hostile  and  incensed  population.  Al- 
though they  might  not  overtly  resist  him,  they 
would  be  able  in  a  thousand  ways  to  make  his 
residence  among  them  unendurable.  He  might 
wring  from  them  their  ecclesiastical  dues,  but 
would  be  unable  to  compel  those  many  services, 
small  in  themselves,  which  go  to  make  life  toler- 
able. He  had  already  encountered  reluctance  to 
furnish  him  with  fuel,  to  supply  him  with  meal 


122  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

and  with  milk,  to  fetch  and  to  carry,  to  cook  and 
to  scour.  To  get  nothing  done  save  by  the  ex- 
ercise of  threats  was  unpleasant  when  he  was  able 
to  call  to  his  aid  the  military  force  placed  at  his 
disposal ;  when,  however,  that  force  was  with- 
drawn, the  situation  would  be  unendurable. 

If  there  had  been  a  party,  however  small,  in  the 
place  that  favored  the  English,  he  would  have 
been  content ;  but  to  be  the  sole  representative 
of  the  foreign  tyranny,  political  as  well  as  eccle- 
siastical, under  which  the  people  writhed,  was 
beyond  his  strength.  And  the  situation  was 
aggravated  by  the  fact  that  he  was  himself  a 
Welshman,  and  was  therefore  regarded  with  double 
measure  of  animosity  as  a  renegade. 

He  was  uneasy,  as  well,  on  another  head. 
Rogier  had  let  drop  a  hint  that  his  brother  in- 
tended to  reduce  the  Archpriesthood  of  Caio  to  a 
mere  vicariate  on  small  tithe,  and  to  appropriate 
to  himself  the  great  tithe  with  the  object  of  event- 
ually endowing  therewith  a  monastery  in  the  basin 
of  the  Cothi,  probably  by  the  tarns  at  the  south- 
ern end.  "  We  shall  never  crush  the  spirit  out  of 
this  people,"  said  Rogier,  "  unless  we  plant  a 
castle  on  Pen-y-ddinas,  or  squat  an  abbey  by  those 
natural  fishponds  at  Talley." 


GORONWY  123 

If  this  were  done,  then  he,  Cadell,  would  have 
been  inadequately  repaid  for  the  vexations  and 
discomforts  he  would  be  forced  to  endure. 

The  troop  sent  with  him,  Cadell  could  not  but 
see,  had  done  their  utmost  to  roughen  his  path. 
They  had  exasperated  the  people  beyond  endur- 
ance. 

As  he  sat  thus  musing  a  young  man  entered 
cautiously,  looked  around,  and  sidled  towards 
him.     He  was  deformed. 

The  chaplain  looked  up  and  asked  what  he 
required. 

"  I  have  come  for  a  talk,"  said  the  visitor. 
"  May  I  sit?  I  know  this  hall  well ;  it  belonged 
to  my  father.  I  am  Goronwy,  son  of  the  former 
Archpriest  Ewan  or  John,  as  you  please  to  call 
him." 

Cadell  signed  to  a  seat.  He  was  not  ill-pleased 
at  a  distraction  from  his  unpleasant  thoughts,  and 
he  was  not  a  little  gratified  to  find  a  man  of  the 
place  ready  to  approach  him  without  apparent 
animosity  or  suspicion. 

"You  do  not  appear  to  me  to  have  a  pleasant 
place,"  pursued  Goronwy.  "  I  saw  a  beetle  once 
enter  a  hive.  The  bees  fell  on  him,  and  in  spite  of 
his  hardness,  stung  him  to  death,  and  after  that 


124  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

built  a  cairn  of  wax  over  him.  There  he  lay  all  the 
summer,  and  every  bee  that  entered  or  left  the 
hive  trampled  on  the  mound  of  wax  that  covered 
their  enemy." 

"  Their  stings  shall  be  plucked  out,"  said  Cadell. 

"  Aye,  but  you  cannot  force  them  to  furnish 
you  with  honey,  nor  prevent  them  from  entomb- 
ing you  in  wax.  They  will  do  it — imperceptibly, 
and  tread  you  underfoot  at  the  last." 

Cadell  said  nothing  to  this ;  he  muttered 
angrily  and  contemptuously,  and  drew  back  from 
the  fire  to  look  at  his  visitor. 

A  lad  with  a  long  face,  keen,  beady  eyes,  rest- 
less and  cunning,  long  arms,  and  large  white 
hands.  His  body  was  misshapen  and  short,  but 
his  limbs  disproportionately  long. 

"  I  should  have  been  Archpriest  here,"  pursued 
he  ;  "  but  because  I  am  not  straight  as  a  wand, 
they  rejected  me.  In  your  Latin  Church,  are 
they  as  particular  on  this  point  ?  " 

"  We  can  dispense  with  most  rules — if  there  be 
good  reason  for  it." 

"  Do  you  think,  in  the  event  of  your  getting 
tired  of  being  here,  among  those  who  do  not  love 
you,  that  you  could  make  room  for  me  ?" 

"  For  you  !  "  Cadell  stared. 


GORONWY  125 

"  Aye  !  I  ought  to  have  been  chief  here,  only 
they  passed  me  over  for  Pabo.  I  have  a  heredi- 
tary right  to  be  both  chief  and  priest  in  Caio." 

Then  Cadell  laughed. 

"You  are  a  misshapen  fool,"  he  said;  "dost 
think  that  Bishop  Bernard  would  give  thee  such  a 
place  as  this — to  foment  rebellion  against  him  ?  " 

"  He  might  give  it  to  me,  if  I  undertook  to  do 
him  a  great  service,  and  to  bring  the  place  under 
his  feet." 

"  What  service  could  such  as  you  render  ?  " 

"  Would  not  that  be  a  service  to  bring  all  Caio 
into  subjection.  See  !  I  doubt  not  that  a  good 
fat  prebend  would  be  more  to  your  liking  than 
this  lost  valley  among  the  mountains,  traversed  by 
the  Sarn  Helen  alone,  which  was  a  road  frequented 
once  when  the  Romans  were  here,  and  the  gold- 
mines were  worked,  and  Loventum  was  a  city. 
But  now — it  is  naught.     Few  use  it." 

Cadell  mused  on  this  astonishing  proposal. 

It  was  quite  true.  He  would  rather  far  be  a 
canon  at  St.  David's,  with  nothing  to  do,  than 
be  stationed  here  in  this  lonely  nook  surrounded 
by  enemies.  Caio,  however,  with  Llansawel  and 
Pumpsaint,  its  daughter  benefices,  was  a  rich  hold- 
ing, and  not  to  be  sacrificed  except  for  something 


126  PABO,  THE   PRIEST 

better.  Yet  he  feared  the  intentions  of  Bernard 
with  regard  to  it. 

"You  see,"  continued  Goronwy,  "  that  the  peo- 
ple are  so  maddened  at  what  has  been  done  and 
so  bitterly  opposed  to  you  that  were  I  appointed 
in  your  room— — " 

"  But  you  are  not  a  priest." 

"  Was  not  Bernard  pitchforked  into  the  priest- 
hood and  episcopate  in  one  day?  Could  not 
something  of  the  sort  be  done  with  me  ?  " 

Again  Cadell  was  silent. 

Goronwy  suffered  him  to  brood  over  the  pro- 
posal. 

"  If  you  were  to  leave  for  something  better  they 
would  hail  me  as  one  of  themselves,  and  their 
rightful  chief.  And  I  would  repay  the  bishop 
and  you  for  doing  it." 

Still  Cadell  did  not  speak. 

Then  Goronwy  drew  nearer  to  him.  His  small 
eyes  contracted  and  his  thin  lips  became  pointed 
as  he  said,  "  Pabo  is  not  dead." 

Cadell  started. 

"  Dead  !     I  know  he  is  dead  !    I  saw  his  body  !  " 

Goronwy  broke  into  a  mocking  laugh. 

"  I  saw  him — charred  ;  and  I  had  him  buried 
under  a  dungheap  outside  the  church  garth,  as 


GORONWY  127 

befitted  one  struck  down  by  the  judgment  of 
Heaven." 

"  Pabo  is  not  dead,"  repeated  Goronwy  jeer- 
ingly. 

"  He  is  dead.  It  was  a  manifest  miracle.  I 
have  told  the  bishop  of  it.  It  would  spoil  every- 
thing if,  after  I  had  announced  it,  he  were  found 
not  to  be  dead." 

"Yes,"  said  the  young  man,  rubbing  his  large 
hands  together,  "  it  would  spoil  everything." 

Then,  seized  by  a  sudden  terror,  Cadell  ex- 
claimed, "  It  was  threatened — the  staff  of  Cynwyl 
would  raise  the  dead.     It  has  done  it  before." 

"  Oh  !  the  staff  of  Cynwyl  had  naught  to  do 
with  it." 

"  Merciful  heavens,  angels  and  saints  protect 
me  !  If  that  burned  lump  is  raised,  and  walks, 
and  were  to  come  here,  and — come  to  me  when 

in   bed !  "     In    the   horror   of   the    thought, 

Cadell  was  unable  to  conclude  the  sentence.  But 
he  broke  forth  :  "  It  is  not  so.  If  he  be  alive,  he 
is  no  longer  under  the  dungheap  where  he  was 
laid.     I  will  go  see." 

"Go,  by  all  means,"  said  Goronwy,  and  laughed 
immoderately. 

"  Tell  me  more.     You  know  more." 


128  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  Nay,  go  and  see.  I  will  tell  nothing  further 
till  I  have  a  written  and  sealed  promise  from  the 
bishop  that  he  will  appoint  me  Archpriest  of 
aio. 

Cadell  ran  from  the  hall.  Filled  with  terror,  he 
got  together  some  of  the  men  of  the  bishop,  and 
they  searched  where  the  burnt  body  had  been 
laid.     It  was  not  there. 

Back  to  the  hall  came  the  chaplain.  Goronwy 
still  sat  over  the  fire  warming  and  then  folding 
and  unfolding  his  hands. 

"  He  is  gone.  He  is  not  where  we  buried  him," 
gasped  Cadell. 

"  Oh,  he  is  gone  !  I  told  you  Pabo  was  alive. 
He  is  walking  to  and  fro — when  the  moon  shines 
you  may  see  him.  When  it  is  dark  he  will  come 
on  you  unawares,  from  behind,  and  seize  you." 

Cadell  cowered  in  alarm.  "  I  would  to  Heaven 
I  were  out  of  this  place  !  "  he  gasped. 

"  Now,  mark  you,"  said  Goronwy.  "  Get  the 
promise  of  this  Archpriesthood  for  me,  and  I  will 
deliver  Pabo,  risen  from  the  dead,  into  your  hands, 
and,  if  he  desire  it  also,  Morwen  into  the  arms  of 
Rogier." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IT  MUST  BE   MAINTAINED 

ROGIER  broke  into  a  roar  of  laughter,  when 
Cadell,  with  white  face  and  in  agitated  voice,  told 
him  that  Pabo  was  not  dead. 

"  'Sdeath  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  never  quite 
believed  that  he  was." 

"  Not  that  he  was  dead  ?  "  cried  the  chaplain. 
"  Did  you  ever  see  a  man  burnt  as  black  as  a  coal 
and  live  after  it  ?  " 

"  That  was  not  he.     I  doubted  it  then." 

"  It  must  have  been  he.  He  was  buried  as  a 
dog  in  a  dungheap,  and " — Cadell  lowered  his 
voice — "  he  is  no  longer  there." 

"  Because  these  fellows  here  have  removed  the 
body  and  laid  it  in  consecrated  ground.  It  was  a 
trick  played  on  us,  clever  in  its  way,  though  I  was 
not  wholly  convinced.  Now  I  shall  let  them  un- 
derstand what  it  is  to  play  jokes  with  me.     I  can 

joke  as  well." 

9  129 


I30  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  But  what  do  you  mean,  Rogier?  " 

"  That  these  Welsh  rogues  have  endeavored 
to  make  us  beHeve  that  the  old  Archpriest  is 
dead,  so  that  our  vengeance  might  be  disarmed 
and  he  allowed  to  escape.  He  is  in  hiding  some- 
where.   Where  is  that  fellow  who  informed  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing  further  is  to  begot  out  of  him." 

"  We  shall  see." 

"  I  pray  you  desist.  He  may  be  useful  to  us ; 
but  it  must  not  be  suspected  that  he  is  in  treaty 
with  us." 

"  There  is  some  reason  in  this.  I  shall  find  out 
without  his  aid." 

"  Do  nothing  till  I  have  seen  the  bishop.  He 
will  be  very  distressed — angry.  For  I  assured 
him  that  a  miracle  had  been  wrought.  It  was 
such  an  important  miracle.  It  showed  to  all  that 
Heaven  was  on  our  side." 

Rogier  laughed. 

"  We  can  cut  and  carve  for  ourselves  without 
the  help  of  miracles,"  said  he. 

"  I  shall  go  at  once,"  said  Cadell ;  "  the  bishop 
must  be  communicated  with  immediately — and 
his  pleasure  known." 

Bernard  of  St.  David's  was  at  his  castle  of 
Llawhadcn,  near  Narberth.     He  was  there   near 


IT  MUST  BE  MAINTAINED         131 

his  Norman  friends  and  supporters.  He  had  no 
relish  for  banishment  to  the  bare  and  remote 
corner  of  Pembrokeshire  stretching  as  a  hand 
into  the  sea,  as  though  an  appeal  from  Wales  to 
Ireland  for  assistance.  Moreover,  Bernard  was 
by  no  means  assured  that  his  presence  where  was 
the  throne  would  be  acceptable,  and  that  it  might 
not  provoke  some  second  popular  commotion 
which  would  cost  him  a  further  loss  of  teeth. 
Llawhaden  lay  in  a  district  well  occupied  by 
Norman  soldiers  and  Flemish  settlers.  The 
residence  there  was  commodious  in  a  well-wooded 
and  fertile  district.  The  castle  was  strong, 
secure  against  surprises,  built  by  architect  and 
masons  imported  from  Normandy,  as  were  all 
those  constructed  by  the  conquerors  throughout 
the  South  of  Wales. 

In  Llawhaden  Bernard  lived  like  a  temporal 
baron,  surrounded  by  fighting  men,  and  never 
going  abroad  without  his  military  retinue.  It 
was  said  that  he  ever  wore  a  fine  steel-chain  coat 
of  mail  under  his  woolen  ecclesiastical  habit. 
In  his  kitchen,  as  about  his  person,  no  native 
was  suffered  to  serve,  so  suspicious  was  he  lest 
an  attempt  should  be  made  on  his  life,  by  poison 
or  by  dagger. 


132  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

Happily,  he  was  not  required  to  perform  any 
ecclesiastical  functions,  for  he  was  profoundly 
ignorant  of  these ;  but  the  situation  was  such 
that  he  was  not  required  to  ordain  clergy  or 
consecrate  churches.  Clergy  were  not  lacking. 
The  ne'er-do-weels  of  England,  men  who  were 
for  their  immorality  or  crimes  forced  to  leave 
their  cures,  hasted  to  Wales,  where  they  readily 
found  preferment,  as  the  great  object  in  view 
with  the  invaders  was  to  dispossess  the  natives 
of  their  land  and  of  their  churches. 

"  So  you  are  here,"  said  the  bishop.  He  spoke 
with  inconvenience,  as  one  front  tooth  had  been 
knocked  out  and  another  broken.  Unless  he 
drew  down  his  upper  lip,  his  words  issued 
from  his  mouth  indistinctly,  accompanied  by  a 
disagreeable  hiss.  "Hah! — have  the  bumpkins 
paid  up  so  readily  that  you  are  here  with  the 
money?  How  many  marks  have  they  had  to 
disgorge?" 

"  Your  fatherliness,"  said  the  chaplain,  "  I  have 
brought  nothing  with  me  save  unsatisfactory 
tidings." 

"What!     They  will  not  pay?" 

"  They  can  be  made  to  find  the  silver,"  said 
Cadell ;  "  of  that  I  do  not  doubt.     For  centuries 


IT  MUST  BE  MAINTAINED         133 

those  men  of  Caio  have  prospered  and  have 
hoarded.  Other  lands  have  been  wasted,  not 
theirs ;  other  stores  pillaged,  theirs  have  been 
untouched." 

"  It  is  well.  They  will  bear  further  squeezing. 
But  what  ails  thee?  Thou  lookest  as  though 
thou  hadst  bitten  into  a  crab-apple." 

"  I  have  come  touching  the  miracle." 

"Ah!  to  be  sure — the  miracle.  I  have  sent 
despatches  containing  complete  accounts  thereof 
to  his  Majesty  King  Henry,  and  to  my  late  gra- 
cious mistress,  the  Queen.  The  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  who  consecrated  me  at  Westminster, 
looked  as  sour  as  do  you.  He  would  fain  have 
had  the  consent  of  the  Pope,  as  father  of  Chris- 
tendom, but  the  King  would  brook  no  delay,  and 
the  Archbishop  was  not  so  stubborn  as  to  hold 
out — glad  in  this,  to  get  a  bishop  of  St.  David's 
to  swear  submission  to  the  stool  of  Augustine.  I 
have  sent  him  as  well  a  narrative  of  the  miracle ; 
it  will  salve  his  conscience  to  see  that  Heaven  is 
manifestly  with  me.  Moreover,  I  have  had  my 
crow  over  Urban  of  Llandaff.  He  has  not  a 
miracle  to  boast  of  to  bolster  up  his  authority." 

"  My  gracious  master  and  lord,  I  grieve  to  have 
to  assure  you  that  there  has  been  some  mistake 


134  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

in  the  matter  for  which  I  am  in  no  way  blame- 
worthy." 

"  How  a  mistake?"  asked  Bernard  testily. 

"  There  has  been  no  miracle." 

"  No  miracle  !  But  there  has.  I  have  it  in  your 
own  handwriting." 

"  I  wrote  under  a  misapprehension." 

"  Misapprehension,  you  Welsh  hound !  You 
misapprehend  your  man,  if  you  think  I  will  allow 
you  to  retract  in  this  matter." 

"  I  really  do  not  know  what  to  say,  for  I  do 
not  know  what  to  think  about  the  circumstance. 
It  is,  I  fear,  certain  that  Pabo  lives." 

"  Pabo  lives  !  Why  you  saw  him  burnt  to  a 
coal !  I  have  your  written  testimony.  You  in- 
voked the  witness  of  the  Dean  of  Llandeilo,  and 
he  has  formally  corroborated  it.  I  have  it  under 
his  hand.  You  declared  that  there  were  hun- 
dreds who  could  bear  testimony  to  the  same." 

"  Lord  Bishop,  I  cannot  now  say  what  is  the 
truth.  It  is  certain  that  your  brother  and  we  all 
were  shown  the  charred  relics  of  a  man,  \vhom  the 
inhabitants  of  Caio  were  proceeding  to  inter  with 
the  rites  of  religion,  as  their  late  Archpriest. 
When  I  learned  that  he  had  died  by  fire,  by  the 
judgment  of  God,  then   I    stayed  the   ceremony, 


IT  MUST  BE  MAINTAINED         135 

and  bade  that  his  body  should  be  laid  under  a 
dungheap." 

"  You  did  well.     It  is  there  still." 

"  It  is  not,  my  Lord  Bishop." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  declare  that  he  is  risen  from 
his  grave  ?  " 

"  Your  brother  is  of  opinion  that  we  have  been 
deceived  by  the  tribesmen  of  Caio,  so  as  to  make 
us  suppose  that  this  their  Archpriest  and  chief 
was  dead,  and  that  he  is  now  in  concealment 
somewhere.  He  further  saith  that  the  people  have 
secretly  removed  the  dead  man  from  the  place 
where  cast,  and  have  laid  him  in  the  churchyard." 

"  But — who  can  he  have  been  ?  " 

"  I  know  not." 

"  And  I  care  not,"  said  the  bishop.  "  Pabo 
was  struck  by  fire  from  heaven,  because  he  op- 
posed me.  Why  when  Ahaziah  sent  captains  of 
fifty  with  their  fifties  against  the  prophet  Elijah, 
did  not  lightning  fall  and  consume  them  and  their 
fifties  twice?  Is  a  ragged  old  prophet  under  the 
law  of  Moses  to  be  served  better  than  me,  a  high 
prelate  under  the  Gospel?  I  see  but  too  plainly, 
Cadell,  you,  being  a  Welshman,  would  rob  me  of 
the  glory  that  appertains  to  me.  What  grounds 
have  you  for  this  preposterous  assertion  ?  " 


136  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  There  is  a  young  man,  the  son  of  a  former 
Archpriest,  who  has  been  sHghted  and  overpassed, 
and  has  harbored  resentment  against  Pabo.  He 
came  to  me  secretly  and  told  me  that  we  had 
been  deceived — they  used  subtlety  so  as  to  be 
able  the  more  effectually  to  conceal  their  chief 
from  your  just  resentment." 

"  I  do  not  believe  a  word  of  it.  I  have  written 
and  sent  certified  testimonies  that  Pabo  was 
burned  by  fire  from  Heaven.  Where  is  this 
alleged  Pabo  ?  " 

"  I  know  not.  The  young  man  I  speak  of  is 
ready  to  assist  us  to  secure  him." 

"  I  do  not  want  him.  I  want  and  will  have  my 
miracle.  Did  you  not  hear  me  ?  When  I  visited 
Caio,  I  said  to  Pabo  that  I  would  call  down  fire 
from  Heaven  upon  his  head.  I  take  you  to 
witness  that  you  heard  me." 

"  But  what,  my  dear  master  and  lord,  if  he  were 
to  appear,  and  all  men  were  to  discover  that  there 
had  been  no  miracle  ?  " 

"  I  will  have  my  miracle,"  persisted  Bernard 
in  petulant  tones.  "  I  have  gone  too  far  with 
it  to  retract.  Odds'  life !  I  should  become 
a  laughing-stock  all  through  Wales  ;  and  I 
know  well    the    humor   of    his    Majesty.      Over 


IT  MUST  BE  MAINTAINED         137 

his  cups  he  would  tell  the  tale  and  burst  his 
sides  with  laughing ;  and  he  would  cast  it  in  the 
teeth  of  my  gracious  mistress,  the  Queen.  I  have 
gone  too  far — I  will  have  my  miracle.  If  there 
be  a  man  who  is  going  about  calling  himself 
Pabo  the  Archpriest,  let  him  be  arrested  as  an 
impostor." 

**  There  will  be  talk  concerning  it." 
"There  must  be  no  noise.  By  the  Seven 
Sleepers  of  Ephesus,  we  must  hush  it  up  !  As  a 
minister  of  the  Truth,  a  prelate  of  the  Church,  it 
is  my  sovereign  duty  to  put  down  all  imposition. 
Go  now !  I  will  even  send  a  letter  to  Gerald  of 
Windsor,  who  is  at  his  castle  of  Carreg  Cennen, 
in  a  retired  vale  away  from  every  road,  and  from 
most  habitations.  I  will  bid  him  receive  this 
false  Pabo,  and  take  such  measures  that  the 
wretched  impostor  trouble  us  no  more.  As  to 
my  brother,  bid  him,  if  he  lay  hand  on  this  dis- 
sembler and  deceiver  of  men,  this  lying  rogue,  to 
get  him  away  unnoticed,  and  with  no  noise,  out 
of  Caio,  where  he  may  be  observed,  and  to  send 
him  under  escort  and  by  night  to  Gerald  at  Car- 
reg Cennen." 

"  It  shall  be    so.      And — with   regard  to   the 
young  man  of  whom  I  spake  ?  " 


138  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  That  young  man  is  a  pest.  Why  should  he 
have  disturbed  us  with  his  suggestions?" 

"  I  venture  to  remind  your  fatherliness  that  he 
has  but  allowed  us  to  see  what  is  at  work  behind 
our  backs.  He  tells  us  what  is  known  to  all  men 
in  Caio.  Pabo  might  come  forward  at  any  time 
and  show  that  he  is  alive." 

"  That  is  true.  What  further  about  this  young 
man  ?  " 

"  He  offers  to  be  the  means  of  putting  Pabo  in 
our  power." 

"And  his  price?" 

"  In  the  event  of  your  fatherliness  transferring 
me  to  some  other  place  of  usefulness,  such  as  a 
canonry  at  St.  Davids,  he  protests  that  were  he 
named  to  the  Archpriesthood,  he  would  in  all  ways 
subserve  your  interests.  As  he  belongs  to  the 
chieftain's  family,  he  would  be  well  received  by 
the  people,  and  their  suspicions  disarmed." 

"  Well,  well,  promise  him  anything — every- 
thing. I  shall  not  be  bound  to  performance. 
But  hark  you.  Master  Cadell !  If  this  miracle  be 
a  little  breathed  upon,  then  you  must  contrive 
me  another  that  cannot  be  upset  by  scoffers.  Find 
me  a  paralytic  or  a  blind  person  whom  I  may 
recover.     That  would  go  mightily  to  confirm  the 


IT  MUST  BE  MAINTAINED         139 

miracle  of  the  burning  of  Pabo.  And  bid  my 
brother  act  warily  and  proceed  secretly,  require 
him  to  treat  this  dissembler  as  what  he  is — a 
personator  of  a  man  who  is  on  sure  warrant  dead, 
slain  by  the  judgment  of  God." 

"  I  would  fain  have  it  under  your  hand  and 
seal,"  said  Cadell.  "  Your  brother  Rogier  acts 
after  his  own  will,  and  is  not  amenable  to  my 
advice." 

''  You  shall  have  it — also  a  letter  to  Gerald  of 
Windsor.  Get  you  away  now.  The  epistles  shall 
be  ready  by  night,  and  you  shall  ride  at  cockcrow. 
And,  mind  you  this,  Master  Cadell,  if  you  lust 
after  a  canonry,  provide  me  a  new  miracle.  As 
to  that  already  wrought,  at  all  hazards  it  must 
be  maintained.  Not  on  my  account.  I  am  a 
poor  worm,  a  nothing  !  But  for  policy,  for  the 
good  of  the  Cause  ;  lest  these  Welsh  should  come 
to  crow  over  us." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   FALL   OF   THE   LOT 

The  elders  of  the  Caio  tribe  assembled  as  en- 
joined. Some  few  were  not  present,  risking  the 
anger  of  Rogier  rather  than  appear  before  him. 
But  the  majority  conceived  it  advisable  to  attend  ; 
and,  in  fact,  a  gathering  of  the  notables  was 
necessary  for  the  apportionment  of  the  fine  that 
had  to  be  raised.  Although  a  mark  in  silver  was 
what  had  to  be  exacted  from  each  house,  yet,  as 
the  majority  of  the  inhabitants  were  too  poor  to 
pay  such  a  sum,  the  richer  would  have  to  supple- 
ment the  deficiency.  The  fine  was  imposed  on 
the  district  as  a  whole.  The  amount  was  calcu. 
lated  by  the  hearths,  but  each  householder  Avas 
not  expected  to  pay  the  same  fixed  sum. 

This  was  well  understood,  and  the  adjustment 
of  the  burden  had  to  be  considered  in  common. 
There  was,  so  it  was  generally  supposed,  no  ex- 
ceptional cause  for  further  uneasiness.  The  tax 
140 


THE  FALL  OF  THE  LOT  141 

must  be  raised,  and  when  the  silver  had  been 
paid,  then  the  valley  would  be  rid  of  its  intruders 
— with  the  exception  of  the  renegade  Cadell, 
forced  on  the  tribe  as  its  ecclesiastical  chief. 
That  Rogier  had  any  fresh  cause  of  complaint 
against  the  inhabitants  was  not  suspected. 

They  assembled  accordingly,  and  entered  the 
council-hall. 

It  was  not  till  all  were  within  that  the  young 
men  and  women  without  were  filled  with  alarm 
and  suspicion  by  seeing  the  men-at-arms  slowly, 
and  in  orderly  fashion,  close  in  and  completely 
surround  the  edifice,  and  a  strong  detachment 
occupy  the  door, 

Rogier  had  remained  outside,  and  gave  direc- 
tions. Presently  he  stepped  within,  attended  by 
two  men,  one  of  whom  served  as  his  interpreter. 

The  sun  was  shining,  and  it  had  painted  a 
circle  on  the  floor  through  the  opening  in  the 
gable. 

Then  the  Norman  took  his  sword,  and  drew  a 
line  in  the  dust  with  it  from  the  president's  seat 
to  the  doorway. 

"  I  give  ye,"  said  he,  "  till  the  sun  hath  crossed 
this  line,  wherein  to  discuss  and  arrange  as  to  the 
payment   of  the   fine.     Till  then— no  one  leaves 


142  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

the  hall.  After  that — I  have  a  further  communi- 
cation to  make." 

The  men  looked  in  one  another's  faces  and 
wondered  what  this  meant.  A  fresh  impost  ? 
They  were  not  aware  that  occasion  had  been 
given  for  this  ;  but  who  could  be  sure  with  one 
so  rapacious  as  Rogier !  It  was  the  case  of  the 
Wolf  and  the  Lamb  in  the  fable. 

The  Norman  now  left  the  courthouse  and 
sauntered  about  outside,  speaking  to  his  men,  look- 
ing pryingly  among  those  of  the  natives  who,  in  an 
anxious,  timorous  crowd,  remained  in  every  avenue 
between  the  houses,  ready  at  a  threat  to  escape. 

After  the  lapse  of  approximately  an  hour  the 
Norman  reentered  the  hall  and  walked  directly 
to  the  principal  seat  to  take  it. 

Then  up  started  an  aged  man,  and  with  vehe- 
ment gesticulations  and  in  words  of  excitement 
addressed  him  :  "  That  seat  is  taken  by  none — 
save  of  the  race  of  Cunedda.  It  belongs  to  our 
chief,  who  is  of  the  blood  royal.  None  other 
may  occupy  it." 

"  I  take  it  by  the  right  of  the  sword,"  answered 
Rogier.  "  And  let  me  see  the  man  who  will  turn 
me  out  of  it.  I  take  it  as  deputy  to  my  brother, 
the  bishop." 


THE  FALL  OF  THE  LOT  143 

He  laughed  contemptuously,  and  let  himself 
down  on  the  chair. 

"Well,"  said  he,  looking  round,  "have  you 
settled  among  yourselves  as  to  the  contribution  ? 
The  round  gold  patch  touches  my  line.  I  give 
you  till  it  has  passed  across  it  to  conclude  that 
matter." 

Then  Howel  ap  John  stood  up. 

"  VVe  have  considered  and  apportioned  the 
charges,"  he  said,  and  his  cunning  eyes  contracted. 
"  Amongst  ourselves  we  have  arranged  what  each 
is  to  pay.  But,  inasmuch  as  we  are  nothing  save 
tribesmen  of  our  chief,  and  as  the  right  over  the 
land  was  at  one  time  wholly  his,  but  has  since 
suffered  curtailment,  so  that  portions  have  be- 
come hereditary  holdings  of  the  chief  men,  yet  as 
still  the  common  lands,  as  well  as  the  glebe  and 
the  domain,  belong  to  the  chief,  it  has  seemed 
reasonable  and  just  that  he  should  bear  one-third 
of  the  fine,  and  that  this  shall  be  levied  on  his 
land  and  homesteads,  and  two-thirds  upon  us." 

When  this  was  translated  to  Rogier,  he  laughed 
aloud. 

"  I  see,"  said  he,  "  the  holder  of  the  benefice 
is  to  bear  a  third.  What  will  Cadell  say  to 
that  ?  " 


144  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  It  is  a  decision  according  to  equity,"  said 
Howel. 

"  I  care  not.  Cadell  is  not  here  to  protect 
himself.  So  long  as  I  have  the  silver  to  hand  to 
the  bishop,  it  is  indifferent  to  me  whether  you 
bleed  your  own  veins  or  fleece  your  pastor.  He 
has  been  put  in  a  fat  pasture  by  my  brother  ;  it 
is  right  that  he  pay  for  it." 

"  In  two  days  the  silver  shall  be  brought  here 
and  weighed  out." 

"  It  is  well."  Rogier  looked  at  the  sun-patch. 
"  That  is  concluded  ;  now  tarry  till  the  sun  trav- 
erses the  line.  Then  we  will  broach  other  bus- 
iness." 

All  sat  now  in  silence,  their  eyes  on  the  soil, 
watching  the  patch  of  light  as  it  traveled. 

The  men  of  Caio  were  aware  that  the  doorway 
was  guarded.  But  what  was  threatened  they 
could  not  conjecture.  They  had  endured  in- 
tolerable provocations  without  resistance.  They 
were  anxious  at  heart;  their  breasts  contracted 
at  the  dread  of  fresh  exactions.  Some  looked  at 
Rogier  to  endeavor  to  read  his  purpose  in  his 
face ;  but  his,  as  well  as  the  countenances  of  his 
attendants,  was  expressionless. 

The  sun-round  passed   on.     Then  a  cloud  ob- 


THE  FALL  OF  THE  LOT  145 

scured  the  light,  a  fine  and  fleecy  cloud  that  would 
be  gone  shortly. 

All  tarried  in  silence,  breathless,  fearing  they 
knew  not  what — but  expecting  no  good. 

Then  the  sun  burst  forth  again,  and  the  circle 
of  fire  appeared  beyond  the  line. 

At  once  Rogier  stood  up. 

"  You  men  of  Caio,  you  have  thought  to  deal 
with  a  fool,  and  to  deceive  me  by  your  craft. 
But  I  know  what  has  been  done,  and  will  make 
you  to  understand  on  whom  ye  have  practised 
your  devices.  Pabo,  the  chief  and  Archpriest,  is 
not  dead.  It  was  not  he  who  was  consumed  in 
the  presbytery.  Ye  played  a  stage  mystery  be- 
fore our  eyes  to  make  us  believe  that  he  was  dead, 
and  that  you  were  burying  him.  Pabo  is  alive 
and  is  among  you,  and  you  know  where  he  is 
concealed." 

The  interpreter  was  interrupted  by  outcries  of, 
"  We  know  not.  If  that  were  not  he,  we  cannot 
say  where  he  be.  We  found  a  man  burned  to  a 
cinder.  Were  we  in  error  in  supposing  him  to 
be  our  chief  ?     Show  us  that  it  was  so  !  " 

Rogier  remained  unmoved  by  the  clamor. 

"Ye    are    like    a    parcel    of    lying,    quibbling 

women,"  he  said.     "  Pabo  is  in  hiding.     Ye  are 
10 


146  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

all  leagued  together  to  save  him.  But  have  him 
from  his  lurking-den  I  will." 

"  We  cannot  say  where  he  is.  There  is  not  one 
of  us  who  knows." 

"You  will  admit  that  he  whom  ye  pretended 
to  be  Pabo  was  some  other  ?  " 

They  looked  doubtfully  at  each  other. 

"  We  could  not  tell.  The  dead  man  was  found 
in  the  ruins  of  the  burnt  house.  We  thought  it 
was  Pabo." 

"  Ye  did  not.  Ye  contrived  the  device  between 
you. 

"  We  will  swear  that  we  know  not  where  he  is. 
Bring  forth  the  staff  of  Cynwyl." 

"  The  staff  has  been  stolen.  But  I  will  not 
trust  your  oaths.  Did  not  the  wife  of  Pabo  swear 
thereon  ?  "  Then  Rogier  laughed.  "  She  was 
crafty  as  the  rest  of  you,  and  deceived  us  in  her 
oath.  Nay,  I  will  trust  no  oaths.  I  will  place 
my  reliance  on  something  more  secure.  Hey ! 
bring  forward  my  bassinet  !  " 

At  his  order,  one  of  the  attendants  went  to  the 
door  and  received  a  steel  cap  from  a  soldier 
without. 

*'  In  this  bassinet,"  said  Rogier,  "  there  are 
short  willow  twigs.     There  are  more  twigs  than 


THE  FALL  OF  THE  LOT  147 

there  are  householders  and  notables  here  as- 
sembled. Of  these  twigs  all  but  six  are  blank ; 
but  on  half  a  dozen  a  death's  head  has  been 
scored  with  a  dagger  point,  rubbed  in  with  black. 
He  who  draws  such  a  figured  twig  shall  be  hung 
on  the  gallows,  where  is  suspended  your  church 
bell — one  to-day,  a  second  to-morrow.  On  Sun- 
day, being  a  sacred  day,  none  ;  on  Monday  a 
third,  on  Tuesday  a  fourth,  on  Wednesday  a  fifth, 
on  Thursday  the  sixth.  And  on  Friday  ye  shall 
all  assemble  here  once  more,  and  again  draw  the 
lots.  I  shall  hang  one  of  you  every  day  till  Pabo 
be  delivered  up  to  me,  alive." 

Then  there  broke  forth  cries,  protests,  entreat- 
ies ;  there  were  hands  stretched  towards  the  win- 
dow through  which  the  sun  entered,  in  oath  that 
the  whereabouts  of  Pabo  was  not  known  ;  there 
were  arms  extended  to  Rogier  in  assurance  that 
Pabo  was  actually  dead.  Some  cried  out  that  they 
had  had  no  cognizance  of  any  plot  to  deceive. 
Many  folded  their  arms  in  sullen  wrath  or  despair. 

Then  Rogier  lifted  his  sword  and  commanded 
silence.  "  No  word  spoken,"  said  he,  "  will  move 
me  from  my  purpose.  One  thing  can  alone  rob 
the  gallows  of  its  rich  burden — the  delivery  of 
your  late  chief,  Pabo." 


148  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"We  cannot  do  it.     We  know  not  where  he 


is." 


"  Then  let  justice  take  its  course.  This  I  will 
suffer.  When  each  has  drawn  his  lot  from  the 
cap,  he  shall  bring  it  in  his  closed  fist  to  me,  and 
open  it  where  I  stand  in  the  ray  of  sunlight.  If 
he  have  an  unmarked  stick,  he  shall  go  forth  by 
the  door  unmolested.  But  he  who  shall  have  the 
death's  head  in  his  hand  shall  tarry  here.  And 
when  all  six  are  selected,  then  will  I  suffer  each 
in  turn  to  be  conducted  to  his  home,  there  to  bid 
farewell  to  his  family,  and  so  to  dispose  of  his 
worldly  affairs  as  pleaseth  him.  I  will  allow  each 
one  hour  to  effect  this  ;  then  he  will  return  hither. 
The  first  man  who  draws  the  bad  lot  shall  be 
strung  to  the  gallows  to-day.  If  ye  be  wise  men, 
he  will  be  the  only  one  who  will  go  to  make  a 
chime  of  bells.  If  Pabo  be  delivered  to  me  be- 
fore noon  to-morrow,  then  no  second  man  shall 
hang.  If  he  be  given  up  on  Monday  before  mid- 
day no  third  man  shall  swing.  But — if  you  re- 
main obstinate,  I  will  go  on  hanging  ye  to  the 
last  man.  Come,  in  your  order,  as  ye  sit  ;  draw 
to  the  bassinet  and  take  out  your  lot.  I  lay  the 
steel  cap  on  what  ye  call  the  seat   of  your  chief." 

Then  the  old  man  advanced,  he  who  had  pro- 


THE  FALL  OF  THE  LOT  149 

tested  against  the  occupation  of  the  chair,  and 
said — "  I  am  ready  to  die,  whether  in  my  bed  or 
on  the  gibbet  matters  little  to  me.  God  grant 
that  I  be  the  man  taken.  My  time  at  best  is  but 
short.     Another  year  to  me  matters  not  a  hair." 

He  walked  to  the  bassinet,  without  hesitation 
drew  his  lot,  carried  it  to  the  Norman — who  stood 
in  the  sun-ray — and  unclosed  his  withered  hand. 
In  it  was  an  unmarked  stick. 

"  Pass  forth,"  said  Rogier. 

"  Nay,"  said  the  old  man.  "  My  son  comes 
after  me — let  him  draw." 

A  tall,  well-built  man  walked  boldly  to  the  cap, 
drew,  and  approached  the  sunbeam. 

"Open  !  "  ordered  Rogier. 

He  held  a  marked  stick. 

"  On  one  side — food  for  the  crows,"  said  the 
Norman. 

Then  the  old  man  fell  on  his  knees.  "  I  be- 
seech you  take  me  and  spare  him.  He  has  a 
young  wife  and  a  child.  He  has  life  before  him, 
mine  is  all  behind." 

"  Away,"  ordered  Rogier.  "  The  lot  decides — 
the  judgment  is  with  heaven,  not  with  me." 

"  Father,"  said  the  young  man,  "  I  am  willing 
to  die  for  my  chief." 


I50  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

Then  followed  several  who  went  free,  and 
escaped  into  the  open  air,  where  they  drew  long 
breaths,  as  though  their  lungs  had  been  cramped 
within. 

The  next  who  drew  the  death's  head  was  a 
mean  little  man  with  pointed,  foxy  face  and  red 
hair.  He  fell  into  convulsions  of  terror,  clung 
to  Rogier,  implored  for  life,  promised  to  betray 
whatever  he  knew — only,  unhappily,  he  did  not 
know  where  Pabo  was  concealed,  but  undertook, 
if  pardoned,  to  find  out.  The  bishop's  brother 
spurned  him  from  him  with  disgust.  Then  came 
three  with  blanks  and  were  sent  outside. 

The  third  taken  was  Howel. 

"  One  can  but  die  once,"  said  he,  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  "  My  old  woman  will  have  to  look 
out  for  a  second  husband.  May  he  be  better 
than  the  first." 

He  stepped  aside  without  the  exhibition  of 
much  feeling,  but  avoided  the  whimpering  wretch 
who  had  drawn  the  death's  head  before  him. 

"  Hah  !  "  said  lorwerth  the  Smith,  as  he  opened 
his  palm  and  disclosed  the  marked  twig,  "  I 
thought  something  would  fall  to  me  for  striking 
that  blow  which  disabled  the  captain's  arm. 
Would  to  heaven  I  had  aimed  better  and  broken 


THE  FALL  OF  THE  LOT  151 

his  skull !  He  did  not  know  me,  or  I  should  have 
been  hung  before  this."  Singularly  enough,  the 
very  next  to  draw  was  also  one  who  drew  an  un- 
lucky stick,  and  this  was  Morgan  the  Sacristan. 

"  Since  the  Sanctuary  of  David  has  been  in- 
vaded, and  the  wild  beast  of  the  field  tramples 
on  the  vineyard,  I  care  not ;  and  now  the  secret 
of  where  is  hid  the  rod  of  Cynwyl  will  perish 
with  me." 

Next  came  a  whole  batch  who  drew  blanks, 
and  gladly  escaped  with  their  necks. 

The  last  to  draw  the  death's  head  looked 
steadily  at  it,  and  said :  "  She  is  always  right.  I 
thought  so  ;  now  I'm  sure  of  it.  My  wife  said 
to  me,  'Do  not  go  to  the  meeting?'  I  said, 
'Why  not?'  Like  a  woman,  she  couldn't  give  a 
reason  ;  but  repeated,  '  Do  not  go.'  I  have  come, 
and  now  shall  swing  with  the  rest.  It's  a  rough 
way  of  learning  a  lesson.  And  having  learnt  it 
— can  no  more  practise  it." 


CHAPTER   XV 

TWO   PEBBLES 

Tidings  of  the  blow  to  be  struck,  reaching  the 
hearts  of  many  families — six  only  at  first,  but 
with  prospect  of  more  afterwards — had  spread 
through  the  tribal  region.  Those  who  had  drawn 
the  unmarked  sticks  hurried  to  their  homes,  not 
tarrying  to  learn  who  were  all  the  unfortunates ; 
and,  although  relieved  for  the  present  were  in 
fear  lest  they  should  be  unfortunate  at  a  subse- 
quent drawing. 

All  knew  that  Pabo  was  in  concealment,  and 
that  his  place  of  concealment  was  known  to  none, 
not  even  to  his  wife  or  to  Howel.  They  had  not 
a  clue  as  to  where  he  was.  Some  supposed  that 
he  had  fled  to  the  mountains  of  Brecknock, 
others  to  Cardigan  ;  some,  again,  that  he  had  at- 
tached himself  to  Griffith  ap  Rhys,  who  was 
traversing  South  Wales,  stirring  up  disaffection 
and   preparing  for  a  general   rising  of  the  Welsh 

against  their  oppressors. 
152 


TWO  PEBBLES  153 

Yet  hardly  half  a  dozen  men  desired  that  he 
should  be  taken,  and  thus  free  themselves  from 
death.  The  great  and  heroic  virtue  of  the  Celt 
lies  in  his  devotion  to  his  chief,  for  whom  he  is 
ready  at  once  to  lay  down  his  life. 

The  hideous  prospect  that  lay  before  the  un- 
fortunate people  of  Caio  was  one  of  illimited 
decimation.  Would  Rogier  weary  of  his  barbar- 
ous work?  Would  it  avail  to  send  a  deputation 
to  the  bishop  ?  It  was  doubtful  whether  the 
latter  was  not  as  hard  of  heart  as  his  lay  brother. 

Gwen,  the  wife  of  Howel,  was  as  one  stunned. 
She  leaned  with  both  hands  against  the  wall  of 
her  house,  her  head  drooping  between  them, 
with  dry,  glazed  eyes,  and  for  long  speechless. 

Morwen  was  now  in  Howel's  house.  She  had 
returned  to  it. 

She  was  pale,  and  quivering  with  emotion  under 
the  weight  of  great  horror,  unable  to  speak. 

Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  despairing  woman, 
from  whose  lips  issued  a  low  moan,  and  whose 
bosom  heaved  with  long-drawn,  laborious  breaths. 
Morwen  was  well  aware  what  sacrifices  the  tribe 
was  making  and  would  have  to  make  for  her  hus- 
band's safety,  and  this  gave  inexpressible  pain  to 
her. 


154  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

The  moans  of  the  poor  woman  cut  her  to  the 
heart.  At  length,  unable  to  endure  it  longer,  she 
went  to  her,  put  her  arms  round  her,  and  drew 
her  to  herself.  Then,  all  at  once,  with  a  cry,  the 
wife  of  Howel  shook  herself  free,  and  found 
words — 

"  Monday  !  It  is  on  Monday  that  he  must  die, 
and  that  is  our  thirtieth  wedding-day  ?  For  all 
these  years  we  have  been  together,  as  one  soul, 
and  it  will  tear  the  heart  out  of  my  body — and  to 
be  hung  on  the  gallows — the  shame,  the  loss — 
and  Howel  so  clever,  so  shrewd  !  Where  has 
been  his  wit  that  he  could  not  get  free  ?  He 
always  had  a  cunning  above  other  men.  And 
on  our  wedding-day  !  "  She  ran  to  a  cofTer  and 
opened  it,  and  drew  forth  a  knitted  garment,  such 
as  we  should  nowadays  call  a  jersey. 

"  See,  see  !  "  cried  the  wretched  woman.  I 
have  been  fashioning  this  ;  a  thought  of  him  is 
knitted  into  every  loop  I  have  made,  and  I  have 
kissed  it — kissed  it  a  thousand  times  because  it 
was  for  him.  He  feels  the  cold  in  the  long  win- 
ters, and  I  made  this  for  him  that  he  might  be 
warm,  and  wherever  he  was  remember  me,  and 
bear  my  kisses  and  my  finger-work  about  him. 
And  he  must  die,  and  shiver,  and  be  cold  in  the 


TWO  PEBBLES  155 

grave  !  Nay,  shiver  and  be  cold  hanging  on  the 
gallows,  and  the  cold  winds  sway  him.  He  shall 
wear  my  knitted  garment.  They  will  let  me  pass 
to  him,  and  1  will  draw  it  over  him." 

Then  in  at  the  door  came  the  old  man,  who 
had  been  left  when  his  son  was  taken.  He  was 
supporting  that  son's  wife,  and  at  the  same  time 
was  carrying  her  child,  which  she  was  incapable 
of  sustaining.     She  was  frantic  with  grief. 

"  I  have  brought  one  sorrowful  woman  to  an- 
other," said  the  old  man.  *'  This  is  Sheena.  She 
must  not  see  it.     They  are  taking  my  son  now 

to Keep  her  here,  she  is  mad.     She  will  run 

there,  and  if  she  sees,  she  will  die.  For  the  child's 
sake,  pity  her,  make  her  live — calm  her." 

She  had  been  allowed  an  hour  with  her  husband 
in  their  house,  and  then  the  soldiers  had  led  him 
away,  bound  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  had 
conducted  him  towards  the  church. 

She  had  followed  with  the  child,  crying,  pluck- 
ing at  her  hair  with  the  one  free  hand,  thrusting 
from  her  the  old  man  who  would  hold  her  back, 
striving  to  reach,  to  retain  her  husband,  her  eyes 
blinded  with  terror  and  tears,  her  limbs  giving 
way  under  her. 

The  five  men  confined  within  the  court-house 


156  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

heard  her  piercing  cries,  her  entreaties  to  be 
allowed  once  more  to  kiss  her  husband,  her 
screams  as  she  was  repulsed  by  the  guards.  They 
shuddered  and  put  their  hands  to  their  ears ;  but 
one,  the  foxfaced  man,  whose  name  was  Madoc, 
burst  into  a  torrent  of  curses  and  of  blasphemy 
till  Morgan  the  Sacristan  went  to  him  in  reproof, 
and  then  the  wretched  man  turned  on  him  with 
imprecations. 

"  Come  now,  man,"  said  the  smith,  "  why 
shouldst  thou  take  on  so  frantically  ?  We  leave 
wives  that  we  love  and  that  love  us  ;  but  thy  old 
cat,  good  faith  !  I  should  esteem  it  a  welcome 
release  to  be  freed  from  her  tongue  and  nails." 

On  nearing  the  gallows,  where  stood  Rogier, 
that  captain  ordered  the  removal  of  Sheena  ;  and 
when  she  saw  a  ladder  set  up  against  the  cross- 
piece  that  sustained  the  bell,  her  cries  ceased,  she 
reeled,  and  would  have  let  the  child  drop  had  not 
her  father-in-law  caught  it  from  her. 

"  One  kiss — one  last  kiss  !  I  have  forgot  some- 
thing to  say — let  him  bless  his  child  !  "  she  en- 
treated. 

Rogier  hesitated  and  consented,  on  the  condi- 
tion that  she  should  then  be  at  once  removed. 
Thereupon  the  desolate  woman  staggered  to  the 


TWO  PEBBLES  157 

foot  of  the  gallows,  threw  her  arms  round  her 
husband's  neck  ;  and  the  man  who  acted  as  ex- 
ecutioner relaxed  the  rope  that  bound  his  wrists, 
that  he  might  bring  his  hands  before  him  and  lay 
them  on  his  infant's  head.  Then  the  death- 
doomed  man  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven  and  said, 
"  The  benediction  and  the  strength  of  God  and 
the  help  of  our  fathers  David  and  Cynwyl  be  with 
thee,  my  son,  and  when  thou  art  a  man  revenge 
thy  father  and  thy  wronged  country." 

At  once  the  cord  was  drawn  again,  and  his 
hands  rebound.  The  old  man  took  his  daughter- 
in-law  in  one  arm  whilst  bearing  the  babe  in  the 
other,  and  seeing  that  consciousness  was  desert- 
ing Sheena,  hurried  her  to  the  house  of  Howel. 
There,  after  a  moment  of  dazed  looking  about 
her,  she  sank  senseless  on  the  floor. 

Morwen  flew  to  her  assistance,  and  Howel's 
wife  somewhat  rallied  from  her  stupefaction. 

At  that  same  moment  in  burst  Angarad,  the 
wife  of  foxfaced  Madoc. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  she  shouted,  her  eyes  glaring, 
her  hair  bristling  with  rage.  "  She  is  here — she 
— the  wife  of  our  chief.  Are  we  all  to  be  dragged 
to  the  gallows  because  of  him  ?  Is  every  woman 
to  become  a  widow?     He  call  himself  a  priest ! 


158  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

Why,  his  Master  gave  His  Hfe  for  His  sheep,  and 
he — ours — fleeth  and  hideth  his  head,  whilst  those 
whom  he  should  guard  are  being  torn  by  the 
wolves." 

"  Silence,  woman  ! "  exclaimed  the  old  man 
wrathfully.  "  I  joy  that  my  son  has  given  up 
his  life  to  save  his  chief." 

"  But  I  am  not  content  to  surrender  my  Madoc," 
yelled  the  beldame.  "  Let  us  have  the  hated 
Saxon  or  the  worst  Norman  to  rule  over  us, 
rather  than  one  who  skulks  and  dares  not  show 
his  face.  My  Madoc  will  be  hung  to-morrow,  as 
they  have  hung  Sheena's  man  now.  I  have  seen 
it.     They  pulled  him  up." 

"  Be  silent,"  shouted  the  old  man,  and  tried  to 
shut  her  mouth. 

"  I  will  not  be  silent.  I  saw  it  all.  They  drew 
him  up,  and  then  a  man  sprang  from  the  ladder 
upon  his  shoulders  and  stamped." 

A  cry  of  agony  from  the  wife  of  Howel,  who 
flung  out  her  hands,  as  before,  against  the  wall, 
and  stayed  herself  there.  Sheena  heard  nothing 
— she  was  but  returning  to  consciousness. 

"  Why  do  you  not  bring  him  back?  "  asked  the 
hag,  facing  Morwen  with  fists  clenched,  fangs 
exposed,  and  eyes  glaring.     "  Why  do  you   keep 


TWO  PEBBLES  159 

him  hidden,  that  we  all  may  be  widows — and  you 
be  happy  with  your  man  ?  What  shall  I  do  with- 
out my  Madoc?  Who  will  support  me?  Am  I 
young  enough  to  maintain  myself?  Is  the  whole 
tribe  to  be  dragged  down,  that  you  and  your 
husband  may  live  at  ease  and  be  merry  ?  " 

"  Woman,"  said  Morwen,  trembling,  "  I  do  not 
know  where  he  is  concealed." 

"  Then  find  him,  and  let  him  come  forward  to 
save  us  all.  Shame,  I  say,  shame  on  him  ! — the 
false  shepherd — the  hireling — who  fleeth  and 
careth  not  for  the  sheep  !  " 

The  rattle  of  arms  was  heard,  and  at  the  sound 
Morwen  slipped  out  of  the  room  into  the  inner 
apartment  that  she  might  not  be  seen. 

Immediately  two  men-at-arms  entered,  leading 
Howel  between  them. 

"  He  is  granted  one  hour,"  said  the  man  who 
could  speak  a  few  words  of  Welsh.  "  On  Mon- 
day he  dies." 

"  Clear  the  room  !  "  said  the  old  man  ;  and  to 
the  soldier  :  "  Remove  this  frantic  woman."  He 
indicated  Angarad  ;  and  he  himself,  with  their 
assistance,  drew  her — swearing,  struggling,  splut- 
tering with  rage — from  the  house.  Sheena  re- 
mained where  she  had  been   laid — as  yet  barely 


i6o  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

conscious.  Howel's  wife  dropped  into  her  hus- 
band's arms,  moaning,  still  powerless  to  weep. 

In  the  inner  chamber,  dimly  lighted  by  a  small 
window  covered  with  bladder  in  place  of  glass, 
on  a  bed  sat  Morwen,  with  her  hands  clasped 
between  her  knees,  looking  despairingly  before 
her.  Every  word  of  the  cruel  woman  had  cut 
her  heart  as  the  stab  of  an  envenomed  poignard. 

Did  Pabo  know  what  was  being  done  at  Caio? 
No — assuredly  not.  She  who  had  read  his 
thoughts  and  knew  his  heart  was  well  aware  that 
he  would  readily  die  himself  rather  than  that  any 
of  his  people  should  suffer.  He  knew  nothing. 
They,  with  a  rare  exception  only,  would  meet 
their  fate,  the  men  give  their  necks  to  the  halter, 
the  women  submit  to  be  made  widows  rather 
than  that  their  master  and  chief  should  fall  into 
the  hands  of  his  enemies.  Brave,  true,  faithful 
hearts  !  But  was  it  right  that  they  should  be 
called  on  to  endure  such  sacrifices?  She  shud- 
dered. What,  would  she  have  him  taken  and  die 
an  ignominious  death?  Him  whom  she  loved  bet- 
ter than  any  one — with  a  one,  soul-filling  love? 
Could  she  endure  such  a  sacrifice  as  that  ?  Then 
she  heard  the  step  of  Howel  coming  to  the  door. 

He  entered  and  was  with  her  alone. 


TWO  PEBBLES  i6i 

"  Morwen,"  said  he,  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  shall  be 
able  shortly  to  do  no  more  for  my  dear  chief. 
Should  you  ever  see  him  again,  tell  him  from  us 
all — all  but  perhaps  one  who  is  beside  himself 
with  fear — that  we  die  willingly.  But  with  him 
I  can  no  more  communicate.  That  must  be  done 
by  you.  It  is  expedient  that  he  should  fly  far- 
ther ;  search  will  be  made  everywhere  for  him. 
Where  he  is,  that  I  know  not,  though  I  may  have 
my  suspicion.  Do  this — at  nightfall  mount  the 
valley  of  the  Annell  till  you  come  to  the  stone 
of  CynwI." 

"  The  stone  of  Cynwyl,"  repeated  Morwen  me- 
chanically. 

"Take  a  pebble  out  of  the  brook  and  place  it 
upon  the  rock.  That  will  be  a  sign  that  he  is 
not  safe,  and  must  fly  to  other  quarters." 

"  What  other  tokens  be  there  ?  " 

"  Two  pebbles  was  to  be  the  sign  that  all  was 
safe  and  he  was  to  return.  That  is  not  the  case 
at  this  present  time.  Remember,  then — One 
pebble." 

"  And  two  calls  him  hither  ?  " 

"  Two  pebbles.     But  remember.  One  only." 

"  Two  pebbles,"  said  Morwen,  but  so  that  none 

heard  it  :  it  was  said  to  her  own  heart. 
II 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A   SUMMONS 

The  days  spent  on  the  mountain  had  not  been 
as  cheerless  as  that  first  night.  The  fire  burned 
now  continually  on  the  hearth,  the  light  peat 
smoke  was  dissipated  at  once  by  the  wind,  which 
was  never  still  at  the  fall  of  the  year  at  the  alti- 
tude where  was  planted  the  hovel  of  the  hermit. 

The  supply  of  food  was  better  than  at  first. 
One  night  Pabo  had  found  a  she-goat  attached  to 
a  bush  near  the  stone  of  Cynwyl ;  and  he  had 
taken  her  to  his  habitation,  where  she  supplied 
him  with  milk.  On  another  night  he  had  found 
on  a  rock  a  rolled-up  blanket,  and  had  experi- 
enced the  comfort  at  night  of  this  additional 
covering. 

But   no   tidings  whatever   had    reached  him  of 

what  went  on  in  Caio.     This  was  satisfactory,  and 

his  anxiety  for   his   flock   abated.     But    he   knew 

that    the    enemy    was   quartered    in    the  valley, 
162 


A  SUMMONS  163 

because  no  call  had  come  to  him  to  return  to  it. 
At  nights  he  would  steal  along  the  mountain-top 
that  he  might,  from  Bronffyn,  look  down  on  the 
sleeping  valley,  with  its  scattered  farms  and  ham- 
lets;  and  on  Sunday  morning  he  even  ventured 
within  hearing  of  the  church  bell,  that  he  might 
in  spirit  unite  with  his  flock  in  prayer.  He  con- 
cluded that  one  of  the  assistant  priests  from  a 
chapelry  under  the  great  Church  was  ministering 
there  in  his  stead.  He  knew  that  his  people 
would  be  thinking  of  him,  as  he  was  of  them. 

During  the  day  he  made  long  excursions  to  the 
north,  among  the  wild  wastes  that  stretched  in- 
terminably away  before  his  eyes,  and  ofTered  him 
a  region  where  he  might  lie  hid  should  his  present 
hiding-place  be  discovered. 

None  could  approach  the  hut  unobserved,  a 
long  stretch  of  moor  was  commanded  by  It,  and 
the  rocks  in  the  rear  afforded  means,  should  he 
observe  an  enemy  approach,  of  getting  away 
beyond  their  reach  into  the  intricacies  of  the 
wilderness. 

At  first  Pabo  was  oppressed  by  the  sense  of 
loneliness.  No  human  face  was  seen,  no  human 
voice  heard.  But  this  passed,  and  he  became 
conscious  of   a  calm    coming  over   his   troubled 


i64  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

heart,  and  with  it  a  sense  of  freedom  from  care 
and  childhke  happiness. 

The  elevation  at  which  he  Hved,  the  elasticity 
of  the  air,  the  brilliance  of  the  light,  unobstructed, 
as  below,  by  mountains,  tended  towards  this. 
Moreover,  he  was  alone  with  Nature, that  has  an  in- 
spiriting effect  on  the  heart,  whilst  at  the  same  time 
tranquilizing  the  nerves — tranquilizing  all  the 
cares  and  worries  bred  of  life  among  men.  It  was  a 
delight  to  Pabo  to  wander  through  the  heather  to 
some  brow  that  overhung  the  Ystrad  Towy  or  the 
valley  of  the  Cothi,  and  look  down  from  his  tree- 
less altitude  on  the  rolling  masses  of  wood,  now 
undergoing  glorious  change  of  color  under  the 
touch  of  autumn.  Or  else  to  venture  into  the 
higher,  unoccupied  mountain  glens,  where  the 
rowan  and  the  rose-bramble  were  scarlet  with 
their  berries,  and  there  he  seemed  to  be  moving 
in  the  land  of  coral. 

It  was  a  delight  to  observe  the  last  flowers  of 
the  year,  the  few  stray  harebells  that  still  hung 
and  swayed  in  the  air,  the  little  ivy-leafed  cam- 
panula by  the  water,  the  sturdy  red  robin,  the 
gorse  persistent  in  bloom.  He  gathered  a  few 
blossoms  to  adorn  his  wretched  hovel,  and  in  it 
they  were  as  a  smile. 


A  SUMMONS  165 

The  birds  were  passing  overhead,  migrating 
south,  yet  the  ring-ouzel  was  still  there  :  the  eagle 
and  hawk  spired  aloft  on  their  lookout  for  prey ; 
the  plover  and  curlew  piped  mournfully,  and  the 
owl  hooted. 

The  insects  were  retiring  underground  for  the 
winter.  Pabo  had  not  hitherto  noticed  the  phases 
of  life  around  him,  below  that  of  man,  now  it 
broke  on  him  as  a  wonder,  and  filled  him  with 
interest,  to  see  a  world  on  which  hitherto  he  had 
not  thought  to  direct  his  observation.  There  is 
no  season  in  the  year  in  which  the  lights  are  more 
varied  and  more  beautiful  than  in  autumn,  the 
slant  rays  painting  the  rocks  vermilion,  glorifying 
the  dying  foliage,  enhancing  the  color  of  every 
surviving  flower. 

But  the  fall  of  the  year  is  one  in  which  Nature 
weeps  and  sighs  over  the  prospect  of  death ;  and 
there  came  on  Pabo  days  of  blinding  fog  and 
streaming  rain.  Then  he  was  condemned  to  remain 
within,  occasionally  looking  forth  into  the  whirls 
of  drifting  vapor,  charged  with  a  strange  dank 
scent,  or  at  the  lines  of  descending  water.  He 
milked  his  goat,  collected  food  for  it,  and  heaped 
up  his  fire. 

Then  it  was  that  sad  thoughts  came  over  him, 


i66  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

forebodings  of  ill ;  and  he  mused  by  his  hearth, 
looking  into  the  glow,  listening  to  the  moan  of 
the  wind  or  the  drizzle  of  the  rain,  and  the  eternal 
drip,  drip  from  the  eaves. 

He  had  thus  sat  for  hours  one  day,  interrupting 
his  meditations  only  by  an  occasional  pace  to  the 
door  to  look  out  for  a  break  in  the  weather,  when 
there  came  upon  him  with  a  shock  of  surprise  the 
recollection  that  there  was  more  in  the  hermit's 
scroll  than  he  had  considered  at  first.  Not  much. 
He  unfurled  it,  and  beside  the  bequest  of  the  hut, 
only  these  words  were  added  :  "  For  a  commission 
look  below  my  bed." 

What  was  the  meaning  of  this  ?  It  was  strange 
that  till  now  Pabo  had  given  no  thought  to  these 
concluding  words. 

Now  he  thrust  the  fire  together,  cast  on  some 
dry  bunches  of  gorse  that  lit  the  interior  with  a 
golden  light,  and  he  drew  the  bed  from  the  place 
it  had  occupied  in  the  corner  of  the  chamber. 

Beneath  it  was  nothing  but  the  beaten  earth 
that  had  never  been  disturbed. 

The  bed  itself  was  but  a  plank  resting  on  two 
short  rollers,  to  sustain  it  six  inches  above  the 
soil.  Nothing  had  been  concealed  beneath  the 
plank,  between  it  and  the  ground — no  box,  no 


A  SUMMONS  167 

roll  of   parchment.      Nothing  even   was   written 
in  the  dust. 

Pabo  took  a  flaming  branch  and  examined  the 
place  minutely,  but  in  vain. 

Then  he  threw  off  the  blanket  and  skins  that 
covered  the  pallet.  He  shook  them,  and  naught 
dropped  out.  He  took  the  pillow  and  explored 
it.  The  contents  were  but  moss ;  yet  he  picked 
the  moss  to  small  pieces,  searching  for  the  commis- 
sion and  finding  none.  Then  he  drew  away  the 
logs  on  which  the  plank  had  rested.  They  might 
be  hollow  and  contain  something.  Also  in  vain. 
Thoroughly  perplexed  to  know  what  could  have 
been  the  hermit's  meaning,  Pabo  now  replaced 
the  rollers  in  their  former  position  and  raised  the 
plank  to  lean  it  upon  them  once  more. 

At  this  something  caught  his  eye — some 
scratches  on  the  lower  surface  of  the  board.  He 
at  once  turned  it  over,  and  to  his  amazement  saw 
that  this  under  side  of  the  pallet  was  scored  over 
with  lines  and  with  words,  drawn  on  the  wood 
with  a  heated  skewer,  so  that  they  were  burnt  in. 

The  fire  had  sunk  to  a  glow — he  threw  on  more 
eorse.  As  it  blazed  he  saw  that  the  lines  were 
continuous  and  had  some  meaning,  though  wind- 
ing about.     Apparently  a  plan  had  been  sketched 


i68  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

on  the  board.  Beneath  were  these  words,  burnt 
in — 

Thesauras,  a  Romanis  antiquis  absconditus  in  antro  Ogofau. 

Then  followed  in  Welsh  some  verses — 

In  the  hour  of  Cambria's  need, 
When  thou  seest  Dyfed  bleed, 
Raise  the  prize  and  break  her  chains  ; 
Use  it  not  for  selfish  gains. 

The  lines  that  twisted,  then  ran  straight,  then  bent 
were,  apparently,  a  plan. 

Pabo  studied  it.  At  one  point,  whence  the  line 
started,  he  read,  "  Ingressio  "  ;  then  a  long  stroke, 
and  Pcrgc ;  further  a  turn,  and  here  was  written 
vertitiir  in  sinistram.  There  was  a  fork  there,  in 
fact  the  line  forked  in  several  places,  and  the  plan 
seemed  to  be  intricate.  Then  a  black  spot  was 
burnt  deeply  into  the  wood,  and  here  was  written  : 
Cave,  puteiun  profundum.  And  just  beyond  this 
several  dots  with  the  burning  skewer,  and  the 
inscription,  Auri  moles proegrandis. 

Pabo  was  hardly  able  at  first  to  realize  the 
revelation  made.  He  knew  the  Ogofau  well.  It 
was  hard  by  Pumpsaint — a  height,  hardly  a 
mountain,  that  had  been  scooped  out  like  a  vol- 
canic crater  by  the  Romans  during  their  occupa- 


A  SUMMONS  169 

tion  of  Britain.  From  the  crater  thus  formed, 
they  had  driven  adits  into  the  bowels  of  the 
mountain.  Thence  it  was  reported  they  had  ex- 
tracted much  gold.  But  the  mine  had  been  un- 
worked  since  their  time.  The  Welsh  had  not 
sufficient  energy  or  genius  in  mining  to  carry  on 
the  search  after  the  most  precious  of  ores.  And 
superstition  had  invested  the  deserted  works  with 
terrors.  Thither  it  was  said  that  the  Five  Saints, 
the  sons  of  Cynyr  of  the  family  of  Cunedda,  had 
retired  in  a  thunder-storm  for  shelter.  They  had 
penetrated  into  the  mine  and  had  lost  their  way, 
and  taking  a  stone  for  a  bolster,  had  laid  their 
heads  on  it  and  fallen  asleep.  And  there  they 
would  remain  in  peaceful  slumber  till  the  return 
of  King  Arthur,  or  till  a  truly  apostolic  prelate 
should  occupy  the  throne  of  St.  David.  An  in- 
quisitive woman,  named  Gwen,  led  by  the  devil, 
sought  to  spy  on  the  saintly  brothers  in  their  long 
sleep,  but  was  punished  by  also  losing  her  way  in 
the  passages  of  the  mine  ;  and  there  she  also  re- 
mained in  an  undying  condition,  but  was  suffered 
to  emerge  in  storm  and  rain,  when  her  vaporous 
form — so  it  was  reported — might  be  seen  sailing 
about  the  old  gold-mine,  and  her  sobs  and  moans 
were  borne  far  off  on  the  wind. 


I70  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

In  consequence,  few  dared  in  broad  daylight  to 
visit  the  Ogofau,  none  ever  ventured  to  penetrate 
the  still  open  mouth  of  the  mine. 

Pabo  was  not  devoid  of  superstition,  yet  not 
abjectly  credulous.  If  what  he  now  saw  was  the 
result  of  research  by  the  hermit,  then  it  was  clear 
that  where  one  man  had  gone  another  might  also 
go,  and  with  the  assistance  of  the  plan  discover 
the  hidden  treasure  which  the  Romans  had  stored, 
but  never  removed. 

And  yet,  as  Pabo  gazed  at  the  plan  and  writing, 
he  asked,  was  it  not  more  likely  that  the  old  her- 
mit had  been  a  prey  to  hallucinations,  and  that 
there  was  no  substance  behind  this  parade  of  a 
secret  ?  Was  it  not  probable  that  in  the  thirty 
years'  dreaming  in  this  solitude  his  fancies  had 
become  to  him  realities  ;  that  musing  in  the  long 
winter  nights  on  the  woes  of  his  country  he  had 
come  on  the  thought,  what  an  assistance  it  would 
be  to  it  had  the  Romans  not  extricated  all  the 
ore  from  the  rich  veins  of  the  Ogofau.  Then, 
going  a  little  further,  had  imagined  that  in  their 
hasty  withdrawal  from  Britain,  they  might  not 
have  removed  all  the  gold  found.  Advancing 
mentally,  he  might  have  supposed  that  the  store 
still  remaining  underground  might  be  recovered, 


A  SUMMONS  171 

and  then  the  entire  faljric  of  plan,  with  its  direc- 
tions, would  have  been  the  final  stage  in  this 
fantastic  progress. 

How  could  the  recluse  have  penetrated  the 
passages  of  the  mine  ? 

It  was  true  enough  that  the  Ogofau  were  ac- 
cessible from  Mallaen  without  going  near  any  hab- 
itation of  man.  It  was  conceivable  that  by  night 
the  old  man  had  prosecuted  his  researches,  which 
had  finally  been  crowned  with  success. 

Pabo  felt  a  strong  desire  to  consult  Howel. 
He  started  up,  and  after  having  replaced  the  plank 
and  covered  it  with  the  bedding,  left  the  hut  and 
made  his  way  down  into  the  valley  of  theAnnell, 
to  the  Stone  of  Cynwyl. 

Notwithstanding  the  drizzle  and  the  gathering 
night,  he  pushed  on  down  the  steep  declivity,  and 
on  reaching  the  brawHng  stream  passed  out  of  the 
envelope  of  vapor. 

The  night  was  not  pitch  dark,  there  was  a  moon 
above  the  clouds,  and  a  wan,  gray  haze  pervaded 
the  valley. 

As  he  reached  the  great  erratic  block  he  saw 
what  at  first  he  thought  was  a  dark  bush,  or  per- 
haps a  black  sheep  against  it. 

All  at  once,  at  the  sound  of  his  step  on   the 


172  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

rocks,  the  figure  moved,  rose,  and  he  saw  before 
him  a  woman  with  extended  arms. 

"  Pabo  !  "  she  said  in  thrilling  tones.  "  Here 
they  are — the  two  pebbles  !  " 

"  Morwen  !  " 

He  sprang  towards  her,  with  a  rush  of  blood 
from  his  heart. 

She  made  no  movement  to  meet  his  embrace. 

"  Oh,  Pabo  !  hear  all  first,  and  then  decide  if  I 
am  to  lose  you  forever." 

In  tremulous  tones,  but  with  a  firm  heart,  she 
narrated  to  him  all  that  had  taken  place.  This 
was  now  Sunday.  Two  men  had  been  hung.  On 
the  morrow  Howel  would  be  suspended  beside 
them.  These  executions  would  continue  till  the 
place  of  retreat  of  the  Archpriest  was  revealed, 
and  he  had  been  taken. 

She  did  not  repeat  to  him  the  words  of  Angarad, 
Madoc's  wife — now  widow. 

"  Pabo !  "  she  said,  and  tears  were  oozing  be- 
tween every  word  she  uttered,  "  It  is  I — I  who 
bring  you  this  tidings  !  I — I  who  offer  you  these 
two  pebbles  !    I — I  who  send  you  to  your  death  !  " 

"  Aye,  my  Morwen,"  he  said,  and  clasped  her  to 
his  heart,  "  it  is  because  you  love  me  that  you  do 
this.     It  is  right.     I  return  to  Caio  with  you." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

BETRAYED 

A  CONGREGATION  exceptionally  large  under 
existing  circumstances  assembled  on  Sunday 
morning  before  the  church  of  Caio.  Fear  lest  the 
Normans  and  English  quartered  in  the  place 
should  find  fresh  occasion  against  the  unhappy 
people,  were  they  to  absent  themselves  as  on  pre- 
vious Sundays,  led  a  good  many  to  swallow  their 
dislike  of  the  man  forced  upon  them  as  pastor, 
and  to  put  in  an  appearance  in  the  house  of 
God. 

They  stood  about,  waiting  for  the  bell  to  sound, 

and  looked  shrinkingly  at  the  hideous  spectacle  of 

the  two  men  suspended   by  the  bell,  and  at  the 

vacant  spaces  soon  to  be  occupied  by  others.    At 

the  foot  of  the  gallows  sat  Sheena  moaning,  and 

swaying   herself   to    her   musical    and   rhythmic 

keening. 

Around    the   Court    or   Council-House    stood 

173 


1/4  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

guards.  All  those  standing  about  knew  that 
within  it  were  Howel  and  three  others,  destined 
to  execution  during  the  week. 

They  spoke  to  each  other  in  low  tones,  and 
looks  of  discouragen:ient  clouded  every  face. 
What  could  these  inhabitants  of  a  lone  green 
basin  in  the  heart  of  the  mountains  do  to  rid 
themselves  of  their  oppressors  and  lighten  their 
miserable  condition  ?  Grififith  ap  Rhys,  the 
Prince,  had  appeared  among  them  for  a  moment, 
flashed  on  their  sight,  and  had  then  disappeared. 
Of  him  they  had  heard  no  more. 

Some  went  into  the  church,  prayed  there  awhile, 
and  came  out  again.  The  new  Archpriest  had 
not  put  in  an  appearance. 

It  was  then  whispered  that  he  had  left  Caio 
during  the  week,  and  was  not  returned. 

Sarcastic  comments  passed :  such  was  the 
pastor  thrust  on  them  who  neglected  his  duties. 

But  Cadell  was  not  to  blame. 

He  had  left  Llawhaden,  and  had  made  a  diver- 
sion to  Careg  Cennen  by  the  bishop's  orders. 
The  road  had  been  bad  and  his  horse  had  fallen 
lame,  so  that  he  had  been  unable  to  reach  his 
charge  on  Saturday  afternoon.  To  travel  by 
night  in  such  troubled  times  was  out  of  the  ques- 


BETRAYED  175 

tion,  and  he  did  not  reach  Caio  till  the  evening 
closed  in  on  the  Sunday. 

It  was  not,  however,  too  dark  for  him  to  see 
that  the  frame  supporting  the  bell  presented  an 
unusual  appearance.  He  walked  towards  it,  and 
then  observed  a  woman  leaning  against  one  of 
the  beams  of  support. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  What  has  been  done  here  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  There  is  my  man — I  am  Sheena.  They  have 
hung  him,  and  I  am  afraid  of  the  night  ravens. 
They  will  come  and  pluck  out  his  eyes.  I  went 
to  see  my  babe,  and  when  I  returned  there  was 
one  perched  on  his  shoulder.  I  drove  it  away 
with  stones.  There  will  be  a  moon,  and  I  shall 
see  them  when  they  come." 

"Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  Sheena — that  is  my  man." 

"  Go  home  ;  this  is  no  place  for  you." 

"  I  have  no  home.  I  had  a  home,  but  the  Nor- 
man chief  drove  us  out,  me  and  my  man,  that  he 
might  have  it  for  himself ;  and  we  have  been  in  a 
cowshed  since — but  I  will  not  go  there.  I  want 
no  home.     What  is  a  home  to  me  without  him  ?  " 

"Who  has  done  this?  Why  has  this  been 
done  ?  "  asked  Cadell. 


i;6  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  Oh,  they,  the  Saxons,  have  done  it  because 
we  will  not  give  up  our  priest,  our  chief.  And 
my  man  was  proud  to  die  for  him.  So  are  the 
rest — all  but  Madoc." 

"  The  rest — what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  They  will  hang  them  all,  down  to  the  last 
man,  for  none  will  betray  the  chief.  They  will 
go  singing  to  the  gallows.  There  was  but 
Madoc,  and  him  the  devils  will  carry  away  ;  I 
have  seen  one,  little  and  black,  slinking  around. 
I  will  sit  here  and  drive  devils  away,  lest  coming 
for  Madoc  they  take  my  man  in  mistake." 

Cadell  was  shocked  and  incensed. 

He  hasted  at  once  to  the  house  in  which 
Rogier  was  quartered.  He  knew  that  he  had 
turned  out  the  owners  that  he  might  have  it  to 
himself. 

Rogier  and  two  men  were  within.  They  had 
on  the  table  horns  and  a  jug  of  mead,  and  had 
been  drinking. 

Said  one  man  to  his  fellow,  "  The  Captain 
shall  give  me  Sheena,  when  she  has  done  whim- 
pering over  her  Welshman." 

"  Nay,"  quoth  the  other,  "  she  is  a  morsel  for 
my  mouth,  that  has  been  watering  for  her.  He 
cannot  refuse  her  to  me." 


BETRAYED  177 

"  You,  Luke  !  You  have  not  served  him  so 
long  as  have  I." 

"  That  may  be,  but  I  have  served  him  better." 

"  Prove  me  that." 

"  I  can  interpret  for  him,  I  know  sufficient 
Welsh  for  that." 

Bah  !  I  would  not  dirty  my  mouth  with  that 
gibberish." 

"  You  have  not  the  tongue  wherewith  to  woo 

her." 

"  But  I  have  a  hand  wherewith  to  grip  her." 
"  The  captain  shall  decide  between  us." 
"  Be  it  so.     Now,  captain,  which   of  us  is  to 
comfort  Sheena  in  her  widowhood  ?  " 

'*  It  is  all  cursed  perversity  of  Luke  to  fancy 
this  woman.  Before  long  there  will  be  a  score  of 
other  widows  for  him  to  pick  among.  There  is 
even  now  that  wild  cat,  Angarad." 

"  I  thank  you.  Let  the  captain  judge." 
Then  said  Rogier :  "Ye  be  both  good  and 
useful  men.  And  in  such  a  matter  as  this,  let 
Fortune  decide  between  ye.  There  is  a  draught- 
board ;  settle  it  between  you  by  the  chance  of 
a  game." 

"  It  is  well.     We  will." 

The  men  seated  themselves  at  the  board.    The 
12 


178  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

draught-men    employed    were    knucklebones   of 
sheep,  some  blackened. 

While  thus  engaged,  Cadell  came  in. 
"  Rogier  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  what  is  the  mean- 
ing of  this  ?     There  be  men  hung  to  my  belfry." 

"  Aye  !  And  ere  long  there  shall  be  such  a  peal 
of  bells  there  as  will  sound  throughout  Wales, 
and  this  shall  be  their  chime  :  '  Pabo,  priest,  come 
again  !  '  By  the  Conqueror's  paunch,  I  will  make 
it  ring  in  every  ear,  so  that  he  who  knows  where 
he  is  hidden  will  come  and  declare  it." 

"Consider!  You  make  the  place  intolerable 
for  me  to  perform  my  duty  in." 

"  Thy  duty  !  That  sits  light  on  thy  shoulders, 
I  wot.  Here  have  the  poor  sheep  been  waiting 
for  their  shepherd  all  the  morn,  and  he  was 
away." 

"  I  have  been  with  the  bishop," 

"  I  care  not.     I  shall  find  Pabo  ere  long." 

"  But  his  fatherliness  holds  that  Pabo  the 
Archpriest  was  burnt." 

"  And  we  know  that  he  was  not." 

"  If  there  be  found  one  calling  himself  Pabo — 
and  he  is  in  no  mighty  desire  that  such  should 
be  discovered — then  let  him  be  esteemed  an  im- 
postor— a  false  Pabo." 


BETRAYED  179 

"  How  so  ?  " 

The  chaplain  looked  at  the  men  and  did  not 
answer. 

"  But  none  has  as  yet  been  discovered,"  said 
Rogier. 

"  Do  not  press  to  find  one — not  in  this  manner." 

"  I  shall  not  desist  till  he  is  given  up.  I  have 
said  so,  and  will  be  as  good  as  my  word." 

As  he  spoke,  a  face  looked  in  at  the  door,  then, 
after  an  inspection,  a  body  followed,  and  Goronwy 
approached  stealthily. 

He  stood  before  Cadell  with  his  eyes  twinkling 
with  malevolence,  and  his  sharp  white  face  twitch- 
ing with  excitement,  nodding  his  head,  he  said — 

"  He  is  here — he,  Pabo,  and  she  also  whom  the 
great  Baron,  the  bishop's  brother,  desires  ;  they 
are  both  here.  Know  well  that  it  is  I  who  have 
told  you  this,  and  it  is  I  who  claim  the  reward." 

"  The  reward  !  " 

"  Aye,  the  Archpriesthood,  which  thou  wilt  re- 
sign  for  a  rich  benefice.  Let  me  tell  thee — here 
thou  canst  not  live.  They  will  hate  thee,  they 
will  not  receive  the  Sacraments  from  thy  hand, 
they  will  baptize  their  children  themselves  rather 
than  commit  them  to  thee.  The  word  of  God, 
coming    from  thy  lips,  will  have  lost   all  savor. 


i8o  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

They  will  die  and  be  buried  on  the  mountains 
under  cairns,  as  in  the  old  pagan  times,  rather 
than  have  thee  bless  their  graves.  No — this  is 
no  place  for  thee.  What  the  captain  has  done 
has  driven  barbed  iron  into  their  souls  ;  they  will 
have  none  of  thee.  But  I  am  of  the  stock  of 
Cunedda — me  they  will  welcome,  and  I  will  be 
the  bishop's  henchman." 

"  Pabo  here  ! "  exclaimed  Cadell,  and  looked 
round  at  Rogier,  who  had  understood  nothing 
that  had  passed  in  this  brief  colloquy,  as  it  had 
been  spoken  in  Welsh.  The  man  who  did  un- 
derstand the  tongue  was  too  deeply  engrossed  in 
his  game  to  hearken. 

"  A.ye,  aye,  Pabo  is  here — he  and  Morwen.  I 
have  just  seen  them  ;  they  came  together  down 
the  glen,  and  are  in  the  house  of  Howel  ap  John. 
Be  speedy  and  have  them  secured,  or  they  may 
again  escape.  Pabo  is  for  you — and  for  him,"  he 
pointed  to  the  Norman  captain,  "  for  him  the 
comely  Morwen,  whom  he  has  been  looking  for. 
Say,  didst  thou  obtain  for  me  the  promise  from 
the  bishop?" 

"  What  says  this  misshapen  imp  ?  *  asked 
Rogier. 

Then  the  young  man    sidled  up  to  him,  and, 


BETRAYED  i8i 

plucking  at  his  sleeve  and  pointing  through  the 
door,  said  :  "  La — Pabo  !  Morwen,  Ik  !  " 

"  By  the  soul  of  the  Conqueror,"  exclaimed  the 
Norman,  "  if  that  be  so,  Pabo  shall  be  strung  up 
at  the  door  of  his  church  at  daybreak  !  " 

Turning  to  his  men,  with  his  hand  he  brushed 
the  knucklebones  off  the  board.  "  Ye  shall  con- 
clude the  game  later — we  have  higher  sport  in 
view  now." 

The  men  started  to  their  feet  with  oaths,  angry 
at  the  interruption,  especially  he  who  considered 
that  he  had  won  an  advantage  over  his  fellow. 

"  I  would  have  cornered  him  in  three  moves  !  " 
he  shouted. 

*'  Nay,  not  thou  ;  I  should  have  taken  thy  men 
in  leaps  ! " 

"  Another  time,"  said  Rogier.  "  The  man  we 
seek  has  run  into  our  hands."  Then  to  the  boy: 
"  Where  is  he  hiding  ?  " 

Goronwy  understood  the  question  by  the  ac- 
tion of  his  hands,  and  replied  in  the  few  words 
he  had  picked  up  of  French,  "  Lk — maison, 
Howel." 

"  He  shall  be  swung  at  once,"  said  Rogier ; 
*'  and  then  the  first  object  on  which  the  eyes  of 
all  will  rest  when  they  come  out  of  their  houses 


i82  PARO,  THE  PRIEST 

with  the  morrow's  sun  will  be  this  Archpriest 
they  have  been  hiding  from  me." 

"  Nay,"  said  Cadell,  "  that  may  not  be.  I 
have  orders  to  the  contrary  under  the  hand  and 
seal  of  the  bishop."  He  unfolded  the  instruc- 
tions. 

Rogier  cursed.  "Well,"  said  he,  "  Pabo  to  me 
matters  but  little — so  long  as  I  lay  my  hand  on 
Morwen." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

CAREG   CENNEN 

Before  dawn  Pabo  was  on  his  way,  bound  to 
Careg  Cennen,  riding  between  four  soldiers.  He 
had  been  taken  in  the  house  of  Howel.  It  had 
been  his  intention  to  dehver  himself  up  early  on 
the  morrow  ;  but  he  was  forestalled. 

He  regretted  this,  for  more  reasons  than  one. 
He  had  been  unable  to  make  final  arrangements 
for  the  protection  of  Morwen,  and  he  had  been 
unable  to  communicate  with  Howel  as  he  desired, 
relative  to  the  secret  of  the  treasure  in  the  Roman 
gold-mines. 

The  owls  were  hooting  and  night-jars  scream- 
ing as  the  cavalcade  proceeded  along  the  Sarn 
Helen  towards  the  broad  valley  of  the  Towy  by 
that  of  its  tributary  the  Dulais.  As  they  reached 
the  main  river,  the  dawn  was  lightening  behind 
the  Brecknock  Mountains,  and  the  water  sliding 

down  toward  the  sea  shone  cold  as  steel. 

183 


i84  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

With  daylight  men  were  met  upon  the  road, 
and  occasionally  a  woman  ;  the  latter  invariably, 
the  former  for  the  most  part  fled  at  the  sight 
of  the  armed  men.  But  some,  less  timorous  re- 
mained, and  recognizing  the  Archpriest,  saluted 
him  with  respect  and  with  exclamations  of  lamen- 
tation at  seeing  him  in  the  hands  of  the  common 
enemy.  At  Llandeilo  the  river  was  crossed,  and 
Pabo  was  conveyed  up  a  steep  ascent  into  the 
tributary  valley  of  the  Cennen.  But  this  stream 
makes  a  great  loop,  and  the  troopers  thrust  their 
horses  over  the  spur  of  hill  about  which  the  tor- 
rent sweeps. 

Presently  the  castle  came  in  view,  very  new 
and  white,  constructed  of  limestone,  on  a  crag  of 
the  same  substance,  that  rises  precipitously  for 
five  hundred  feet  sheer  out  the  ravine  and  the 
brawling  stream  that  laves  the  foot  of  the  crag. 

After  a  slight  dip  the  track  led  up  a  bold  stony 
rise  to  the  castle  gate. 

The  situation  is  of  incomparable  wildness  and 
majesty.  Beyond  the  ravine  towers  up  the 
Mynydd  Ddu,  the  Black  Mountain,  clothed  in 
short  heather,  to  cairn-topped  ridges,  two  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  sea,  the  flanks  seamed  with 
descending  threads  of  water  ;  while  further  south 


CAREG  CENNEN  185 

over  its  shoulder  are  seen  purple  hills  in  the  dis- 
tance, A  solitary  sycamore  here  and  there  alone 
stands  against  the  wind  on  the  ridge  about  which 
the  Cennen  whispers  far  below. 

The  bishop  had  already  arrived  at  the  castle. 
He  had  followed  up  his  emissary  pretty  quickly, 
anxious  that  his  own  view  of  the  case  should  be 
maintained  in  the  event  of  the  capture  of  Pabo. 

He  and  Gerald  of  Windsor  were  on  excellent 
terms.  Between  them  they  were  to  divide  the 
land,  so  much  to  the  crook  and  so  much  to  the 
sword  ;  and  whom  the  latter  did  not  consume 
were  to  be  delivered  over  to  feel  the  weight  of 
the  crozier.  In  the  subjugation  of  Wales,  in  the 
breaking  of  the  spirit  of  the  people,  church  and 
castle  must  combine  and  play  each  other's  game. 

The  staff  of  the  bishop  has  a  crook  above  and 
a  spike  below,  to  signify  the  double  power  that 
resides  in  his  hands,  that  of  drawing  and  that  of 
goading.  The  time  for  the  exercise  of  the  curved 
head  might  come  in  the  future,  that  for  the  driv- 
ing of  the  sharp  end  was  the  present,  thought 
Bernard. 

No  sooner  did  he  learn  of  the  arrival  of  Pabo 
than  he  bade  that  he  should  be  brought  into  his 
presence,  in  the  room  given  to  him  by  his  host 


i86  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

on  whom  he  had  intruded  himself — a  room  facing 
south,  overhanging  the  precipice. 

The  weather  was  mild,  and  the  sun  shone  in  at 
the  window.     There  was  no  fire. 

"  So  !  "  said  the  prelate,  fixing  his  gray  dark- 
rimmed  irises  on  the  prisoner,  "you  are  he 
who  give  yourself  out  to  be  the  Archpriest  of 
Caio?" 

"  I  am  he,"  answered  Pabo. 

The  bishop  assured  himself  that  the  strongly 
built  upright  man  before  him  was  bound  and 
could  not  hurt  him  ;  and  he  said  to  the  attend- 
ants, "  Go  forth  outside  the  door  and  leave  this 
dissembler  with  me.  Yet  remain  within  call, 
and  one  bid  Gerald,  the  Master,  come  to  me 
speedily." 

The  men  withdrew. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Bernard,  and  his  words  hissed 
through  the  gap  in  his  teeth,  "  I  wonder  now  at 
thy  audacity.  If  indeed  I  held  thee  to  be  Pabo, 
the  late  Archpriest  of  Caio,  who  smote  me,  his 
bishop,  on  the  mouth  and  drew  my  blood,  there 
would  be  no  other  course  for  me  but  to  deliver 
thee  over  to  the  secular  arm,  and  for  such  an  act 
of  treason  against  thy  superior  in  God — the  stake 
would  be  thy  due." 


CAREG  CENNEN  187 

*'  I  am  he,  Lord  Bishop,  who  struck  thee  on 
the  mouth.  The  insult  was  intolerable.  The 
old  law  provided — an  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth 
for  a  tooth.  If  thou  goest  by  the  law  of  Moses 
deal  with  me  as  seems  right.  What  the  Gospel 
law  is,  maybe  thou  art  too  recent  in  Holy  Orders 
and  too  new  to  the  study  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures 
to  be  aware." 

"Thou  art  insolent.  But  as  I  do  not  for  a 
moment  take  thee  to  be  the  deceased  Pabo " 

"  Lord  Bishop,  none  doubt  that  I  am  he." 

Bernard  looked  at  him  from  head  to  foot. 

"  Methinks  a  taller  man  by  three  fingers' 
breadth,  and  leaner  in  face  certainly,  as  also 
browner  in  complexion,  and  with  cheekbones 
standing  out  more  forcibly." 

Pabo  hardly  knew  what  to  think  of  the  bishop's 
words.  It  occurred  to  him  that  the  prelate  was 
beating  about  for  some  excuse  for  pardoning  him 
whilst  saving  his  dignity 

He  smiled  and  said,  "  If  it  be  a  matter  of  doubt 
with  thee,  whether  I  be  indeed  Pabo " 

"Oh  !  by  no  means,"  interrupted  Bernard,  "  I 
have  no  manner  of  doubt.  On  the  surest  testi- 
mony I  know  that  the  Archpriest  Pabo  was  con- 
sumed by  fire  from  heaven.     This  is  known   far 


1 88  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

and  wide.  His  Majesty  the  King  is  aware  of  it  ; 
it  is  a  matter  of  common  talk." 

"Yet  is  it  not  true." 

"  It  is  most  assuredly  true.  I  have  the  testi- 
mony of  credible  eye-witnesses." 

"Yet,"  said  Pabo,  "  my  own  wife  knows  me." 

"  Of  her  I  can  believe  anything,"  said  Bernard, 
thrusting  his  seat  a  little  back,  to  give  more  space 
between  himself  and  the  prisoner 

"  Hearken  unto  me,"  said  the  bishop  ;  "  I  have 
heard  say  of  these  Welsh  that  they  keep  their 
King  Arthur  somewhere,  ready  to  produce  him 
in  the  hour  of  need,  to  fight  against  their  right- 
ful lord  and  sovereign  the  King  of  England.  And 
I  warrant  ye — they  will  turn  out  some  scullion 
knave,  and  put  a  tinsel  crown  about  his  head,  and 
shout  '  God  save  King  Arthur !  '  and  make  be- 
lieve it  is  he  come  from  his  long  sleep  to  fight 
against  us.  But  we  are  prepared  against  such 
make-believes  and  mumming  kings.  And  so,  in 
like  manner,  when  Pabo,  Archpriest  of  Caio,  is 
dead,  burned  to  a  cinder,  as  it  has  been  most 
surely  reported  to  us,  then  up  starts  such  as  you 
and  assume  to  be  what  you  are  not,  so  as  to  fan  the 
f^ame  of  discontent  among  the  people,  and  inspire 
them  with  hopes  that  can  never  be  fulfilled  ;  and 


CAREG  CENNEN  189 

so  persuade  them  to  resist  rightful  authority. 
Have  I  not  appointed  my  late  chaplain  to  be 
Archpriest  in  the  room  of  that  unhappy  man  who, 
for  temerity  in  lifting  his  hand  against  his  ecclesi- 
astical father,  was  evidently,  before  the  eyes  of 
all  men,  smitten  by  Heaven  ?  I,  of  all  men,  I, 
who  was  struck  in  the  face,  and  thereby  lost  my 
teeth,  have  a  right  to  recognize  the  impious  man 
who  smote  me.  But  I  tell  thee  I  do  not  identify 
thee.  Further,  I  am  ready  to  declare,  and  if  need 
be,  to  swear,  that  thou  art  not  the  man.  Thou 
art  but  a  sorry  makeshift.  Who  should  know  him, 
if  not  I  ?  " 

"  My  dear  people  of  Caio,  whose  pastor  I  have 
been,  among  whom  I  have  gone  in  and  out,  will 
know  me  well  enough.  Confront  me  with  them 
and  the  matter  will  be  settled  at  once." 

"  Nay — the  word  of  a  Welshman  is  not  to  be 
trusted.  They  will  combine  to  bolster  up  a  lie. 
Thou  art  an  impostor,  a  false  Pabo.  That  is 
certain."  Then  he  turned  his  hands  one  over  the 
other  :  "  If  thou  wert  the  real  Pabo,  then  be  very 
sure  of  this  :  I  would  deliver  thee  over  to  the 
secular  arm  to  be  burned  in  verity — and  only 
Norman  and  English  soldiers  should  surround  the 
fire,  and  they  would  see  that  thou  wast  in  truth 


I90  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

this  time  burned  to  a  coal.  But  as  I  do  not  and 
will  not  hold  this,  I  ask  thee,  for  thine  own  sake, 
to  acknowledge  that  there  has  been  a  plot  to 
thrust  thee  forward — that  thy  people  are  in  a 
league  to  accept  thee  as  their  priest  and  chief, 
knowing  very  well  that  their  true  priest  and  chief 
was  burned  in  his  house.  Confess  this,  and  I  will 
use  my  endeavor  to  get  thee  thrust  away  into  some 
distant  part,  where  no  harm  shall  come  to  thee. 
Nay,  further,"  the  bishop  brightened  up,  "  I  will 
even  keep  thee  about  myself  and  advance  thee  to 
honor,  and  I  will  put  thee  into  a  fat  benefice  at 
the  other  extremity  of  the  diocese,  if  thou  wilt 
constantly  affirm  that  thou  art  not  Pabo,  and  never 
wast  Pabo,  neither  ever  knew  him — but  hast  been 
mistaken  for  him  through  some  chance  resem- 
blance." 

"  Although  a  Welshman,"  said  the  Archpriest, 
with  a  curl  of  the  lip,  "  and,  as  thou  sayest,  ready 
with  lies,  I  will  not  say  that." 

"  Then  take  the  consequences,"  exclaimed  the 
bishop.  "  I  give  one  minute  in  which  to  resolve 
thee.  Admit  that  thou  art  an  impostor,  and  I  will 
do  what  I  can  for  thee  ;  refuse — and — and " 

"  Do  your  worst,"  exclaimed  Pabo  indignantly. 
"  What  your  object  is  I  cannot  devise;  but,  be  it 


CAREG  CENNEN  191 

what  it  may,  I  will  not  help  with  a  falsehood.  I 
am  Pabo,  still  Archpriest  and  head  of  the  tribe 
of  the  land  of  Caio." 

"  Then,"  said  the  bishop,  with  harshness  in  his 
tone  but  with  no  alteration  in  his  mask-like  face, 
**  be  content,  as  simulating  the  Pabo  who  struck 
his  ecclesiastical  father  in  the  face,  and  knocked 
out  one  tooth  and  broke  another,  to  receive 
such  punishment  as  is  due  to  so  treasonable  an 
action." 

"  If  we  two  met  as  plain  Christian  people,  living 
under  the  Gospel,"  said  Pabo,  "  I  would  say  the 
act  was  done  under  provocation  ;  but  it  was  an 
unworthy  act,  and  I,  who  committed  it,  express 
my  regret  and  ask  for  pardon  of  my  brother  Chris- 
tian." 

"  And  I,"  said  the  bishop,  "  as  a  Christian  man 
and  a  prelate  of  the  Holy  Roman  Church,  do 
cheerfully  give  forgiveness.  Yet  inasmuch  as  it 
is  unwise  that " 

"  I  see,"  said  Pabo  ;  "  a  forgiveness  that  is  no 
forgiveness  at  all.  The  transgression  must  be 
wiped  out  in  blood." 

"  The  Church  never  sheds  blood,"  said  Bernard. 
"  She  hands  over  stubborn  offenders  to  the  secular 
arm.     Here  it  comes — in  at  the  door." 


192  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

The  hand  of  Gerald  of  Windsor  was  thrust  in, 
followed  by  the  man  himself. 

"  See  here,"  said  Bernard,  addressing  the  Baron 
and  pointing  to  Pabo,  "  this  is  a  man  who  sets 
himself  up  to  be  a  leader  among  the  rebellious 
Welsh,  and  is  stirring  up  of  hot  blood  and  foment- 
ing of  intrigue." 

"  Aye,"  said  Gerald,  "  I  have  tidings  come  this 
day  that  the  beggars  are  rising  everywhere.  They 
have  among  them  their  Prince  Grif^th  ap  Rhys." 

"  And  here,"  said  the  prelate,  "  is  one  of  his 
agents.  This  man  gives  himself  out  to  be  a  cer- 
tain person  whom  he  is  not,  and  he  has  come 
among  the  people  of  Caio  to  bid  them  take  up 
arms.     But  happily  my  brother  Rogier  is  there." 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  him  ?  "  asked  Gerald. 

"  Beau  Sieur,"  said  the  prelate,  "  with  that  I 
have  nought  to  do.  Sufficient  that  I  place  him 
— a  dangerous  fellow — in  your  hands..  And  mark 
you,  a  priest  as  well  as  an  agitator,  one  to  arouse 
the  religious  fanaticism  of  the  people  against  the 
Church  as  well  as  against  the  Crown." 

"  What  shall  be  done  with  him  ?  Cut  off  his 
head  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  pray  shed  no  blood." 

"  Shall  we  hang  him  ?" 


CAREG  CENNEN  193 

"  I  think,"  said  the  bishop,  after  musing  a 
moment,  "  that  it  would  be  well  were  he  simply 
to  disappear.  Let  him  not  be  hung  so  that,  per- 
chance, he  might  be  recognized,  but  rather  suffer 
him  to  be  cast  into  one  of  the  dungeons  where 
none  may  ever  cast  eye  on  him  till  he  be  but 
bones  and  there  be  forgot." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

FORGOTTEN  ? 

PabO  was  hurried  away,  along  a  corridor,  down 
a  flight  of  steps,  through  the  courtyard,  and  was 
thrust  into  a  dungeon  at  the  base  of  a  tower  on 
the  east  side  of  the  castle.  He  had  to  descend 
into  it  by  steps,  and  then  the  heavy  oak  door  was 
shut  and  locked. 

The  floor  was  of  the  limestone  rock,  with  some 
earUi  on  it  ;  the  walls  new,  and  smelling  of  mor- 
tar. One  slit,  far  up,  admitted  a  ray  of  light,  and 
beneath  the  door  was  a  space  of  as  much  as  two 
finger-breadths  between  it  and  the  stone  sill.  No 
preparations  had  been  made  for  his  reception. 
No  straw  or  fern  was  littered  for  a  bed,  nor  was 
a  pitcher  of  water  set  for  him,  that  he  might 
quench  his  thirst.  Pabo  was  hungry  ;  he  had 
partaken  of  nothing  since  he  left  Caib  save  a  crust 
that  had  been  given  him  at  Llanwrda  on  his  way. 

At  Llandeilo  the  soldiers  had  purposely  avoided 
194 


FORGOTTEN  ?  195 

the  town,  and  they  had  halted  nowhere  on  the 
way  except  at  the  place  Llanwrda,  where  they 
had  given  him  a  portion  of  their  breakfast. 

Pabo  supposed  that  he  was  to  remain  in  con- 
finement as  long  as  suited  the  convenience  of  the 
bishop.  He  was  far  from  fathoming  the  purpose 
of  the  prelate  in  endeavoring  to  cajole  or  frighten 
him  into  a  denial  of  his  own  identity.  Had  he 
known  the  figure  Bernard  was  endeavoring  to  cut 
at  his  expense,  he  would  have  laughed  aloud  and 
made  his  dungeon  walls  ring. 

He  cast  himself  in  a  corner  against  the  wall 
and  waited,  in  the  expectation  of  his  jailer  com- 
ing in  before  long  with  a  truss  of  straw,  some 
bread  and  water,  and  possibly  chains  for  his 
hands  or  feet.  But  hours  passed,  and  no  one 
came. 

From  where  he  sat  he  could  see  feet  go  by  his 
door,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  towards  evening 
these  were  the  feet  of  women. 

No  sentinel  paced  the  court  outside  his  door- 
way. He  heard  human  voices,  occasionally,  but 
could  distinguish  no  words. 

The  evening  closed  in,  and  still  none  attended 
to  him.  Feeling  in  his  pouch  he  found  some 
dried  corn  from  the  hermit's  store.     When  wan- 


196  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

dering  on  the  mountains  he  had  been  wont  to 
thus  provide  himself,  and  happily  there  remained 
still  some  unconsumed.  With  this  he  filled  his 
mouth. 

He  waited  on  as  darkness  settled  in,  so  that  he 
could  but  just  distinguish  his  window  and  the 
gap  below  the  door,  and  at  length  fell  into  a 
troubled  sleep. 

During  the  night  he  woke  with  the  cold,  and 
groped  for  the  blankets  he  had  been  accustomed 
to  draw  over  him  in  the  cell  on  Mallaen,  but  here 
in  the  prison  of  CaregCennen  none  were  provided. 
He  felt  stiff  and  chilled  in  his  bones  with  lying 
on  the  bare  rock.  He  turned  from  side  to  side, 
but  could  find  no  relief. 

Surely  it  was  not  the  intention  of  Gerald  of 
Windsor  to  detain  him  there  without  the  modi- 
cum of  comforts  supplied  to  the  worst  of  crimi- 
nals. He  had  not  offended  the  Norman  baron. 
If  he  were  not  Pabo,  as  the  bishop  insisted,  why 
was  he  dealt  with  so  harshly  ?  He  had  not  done 
anything  to  show  that  he  was  a  fanner  of  rebellion. 
Against  him  not  a  particle  of  evidence  could  be 
adduced. 

The  thought  that  he  carried  with  him  the  great 
secret  of  the  hermit  also  troubled  him.     It  is  said 


FORGOTTEN  ?  197 

that  no  witch  can  die  till  she  has  communicated 
her  hidden  knowledge  to  some  sister. 

It  was  to  Pabo  a  thought  insupportable  that  he 
was  unable  to  impart  the  secret  deposited  with 
him  to  some  one  who  could  use  the  knowledge  for 
the  good  of  his  oppressed  countrymen. 

Hitherto  the  attempts  made  by  the  Welsh  to 
shake  off  their  yoke  had  been  doomed  to  failure, 
largely  because  of  their  inability  to  purchase 
weapons  and  stores  that  might  furnish  their  levies 
and  maintain  them  in  the  field.  It  was  not  that 
in  the  Cambrian  Mountains  there  had  been  de- 
ficiency in  resolution  and  lack  of  heroism  ;  but  it 
was  the  poverty  of  Wales  that  had  stood  no  chance 
against  the  wealth  of  England. 

For  himself  Pabo  cared  little,  but  he  was  deeply 
concerned  that  he  had  no  means  of  conveying  the 
secret  that  had  been  entrusted  to  him  to  those 
who  could  make  good  use  of  it. 

He  dozed  off  again  in  cold  and  hunger,  and  fell 
to  dreaming  that  he  had  lit  on  an  ingot  of  pure 
gold,  so  large  and  so  weighty  that  he  could  not 
himself  lift  it,  and  opened  his  eyes  to  see  a  golden 
bar  indeed  before  him,  but  it  was  one  of  sunlight, 
painted  on  the  wall  by  the  rising  orb  as  it  shone 
through  the  slit  that    served    as   window.      He 


198  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

waited  now  with  impatience,  trusting  that  some 
one  would  come  to  him.  Yet  time  passed  and 
none  arrived. 

He  moved  to  one  of  the  steps,  seated  himself 
thereon,  and  looked  at  the  light  between  the 
bottom  of  the  door  and  the  sill.  Again  he  saw 
what  he  conjectured  to  be  women's  feet  pass  by, 
and  presently,  but  after  a  long  interval,  return  ; 
and  this  time  he  knew  that  the  feet  belonsfed  to 
a  woman,  for  she  stopped  where  he  could  see,  set 
down  an  earthenware  pitcher,  and  exchanged 
some  words  with  a  soldier,  one  of  the  garrison. 
He  could  see  the  pitcher  nearly  to  the  handle, 
but  not  the  hand  that  set  it  down  and  raised  it. 
Yet  he  distinguished  the  skirts  of  the  dress  and 
the  tones  of  voice  as  those  of  a  woman. 

Presently  he  again  heard  a  voice,  that  belonged 
to  a  female,  and  by  the  intonation  was  sure  that 
what  she  spoke  was  in  Welsh.  She  was  calling 
and  strewing  crumbs,  for  some  fell  near  his  door. 
Immediately  numerous  pigeons  arrived  and 
pecked  up  what  was  cast  for  them.  He  could 
see  their  red  legs  and  bobbing  heads,  and  wished 
that  some  of  the  fragments  might  have  been  for 
him. 

He  had  hardly  formed  the  wish  before  a  crust, 


FORGOTTEN?  199 

larger  than  any  given  to  the  birds,  fell  against  his 
door,  and  there  was  a  rush  of  pigeons  towards  it. 
Pabo  put  forth  two  fingers  through  the  opening, 
and  drew  the  piece  of  bread  within.  He  had 
hardly  secured  this,  before  another  piece  fell  in 
the  same  place,  and  once  more,  in  the  same  man- 
ner, he  endeavored  to  capture  it.  But  unhappily 
it  had  rebounded  just  beyond  his  reach,  and  after 
vain  efforts  he  would  have  had  to  relinquish  it 
wholly  to  the  pigeons  had  not  feet  rapidly  ap- 
proached and  a  hand  been  lowered  that  touched 
the  crust  and  thrust  it  hastily  under  th?  door,  and 
then  pushed  in  another  even  larger. 

After  this  the  feet  went  away.  But  still  the 
pigeons  fluttered  and  pecked  till  they  had  con- 
sumed the  last  particle  cast  to  them. 

Pabo  ate  the  pieces  of  bread  ravenously. 

He  was  not  thirsty.  The  coolness  and  mois- 
ture of  the  prison  prevented  him  from  becom- 
ing parched.  What  he  had  received  was  not, 
indeed,  much,  but  it  was  sufificient  to  take 
off  the  gnawing  pain  that  had  consumed  his 
vitals. 

Now  for  the  first  time  he  realized  the  force  of 
the  prelate's  words  when  he  had  bidden  Gerald 
of  Windsor  to  cast  him — Pabo — into  a  dungeon, 


200  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

there  to  be  forgotten.  Forgotten  he  was  to  be, 
ignored  as  a  human  being  immured  in  this  sub- 
terranean den.  He  was  to  be  left  there,  totally 
unattended  and  unprovided  for.  Of  this  he  was 
now  convinced,  both  because  of  the  neglect  he 
had  undergone,  and  also  because  of  the  attempt 
made  by  some  Welshwoman,  unknown  to  him, 
surreptitiously  to  supply  him  with  food.  This 
she  would  not  have  done  had  she  not  been  aware 
of  the  fate  intended  for  him.  He  was  to  be  left 
to  die  of  cold  and  hunger  and  thirst,  and  was  not 
to  leave  the  prison  save  as  a  dwindled,  emaciated 
wreck,  with  the  life  driven  out  of  him  by  privation 
of  all  that  is  necessary  for  the  support  of  life.  He 
was  now  well  assured  of  what  was  purposed,  and 
also,  and  equally  assured,  that  he  had  in  the 
castle  some  friend  who  would  employ  all  her 
feminine  craft  to  deliver  him  from  such  a 
fate. 

Slowly,  tediously  the  day  passed.  Still,  occa- 
sionally voices  were  audible,  but  no  feet  ap- 
proached the  dungeon  doorway.  Overhead  there 
were  chambers,  but  the  prison  was  vaulted  with 
stone,  and  even  were  any  persons  occupying  an 
upper  story,  they  were  not  likely  to  be  heard  by 
one  below. 


FORGOTTEN?  201 

It  was,  perhaps,  fortunate  that  for  some  time 
on  the  mountain  Pabo  had  led  a  very  frugal  life 
and  had  contented  himself  with  parched  grain,  or 
girdle-cakes  of  his  own  grinding  and  making.  Yet 
to  these  had  been  added  the  milk  of  a  goat,  and 
for  this  he  now  craved.  He  thought  of  his  poor 
Nanny  bleating,  distressed  with  her  milk;  he 
thought  of  how  she  had  welcomed  him  when  he 
returned  to  the  cell.  Poor  Nanny  !  What  would 
he  not  now  give  for  a  draught  of  her  sweet  sus- 
taining milk  ! 

Another  night  passed,  and  again  in  the  morn- 
ing there  ensued  the  feeding  of  the  pigeons,  and 
therewith  a  fall  of  crusts  within  his  reach  by  the 
door. 

During  the  day  he  heard  a  clatter  of  hoofs  in 
the  courtyard,  and  by  seating  himself  on  the 
lowest  step  in  his  vault,  leaning  one  elbow  on  an- 
other, and  bringing  first  eye  and  then  ear  near  to 
the  gap  below  the  door,  he  saw  and  heard  suffi- 
cient to  lead  him  to  suppose  that  the  bishop  was 
leaving  Careg  Cennen,  to  return  to  his  own  castle 
of  Llawhaden. 

He  could  even  distinguish  his  strident  voice, 
and  catch  a  few  words  uttered  by  him,  as  he 
turned  his  face  towards  the  dungeon-door,  and 


202  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

said  :  "  My  good  friend  Gerald — is,  humph  !  the 
impostor  forgotten  ?  " 

"  Forgotten,  as  though  he  had  never  been," 
was  the  response,  in  the  rough  tones  of  the 
Norman  Baron. 

Then  both  laughed. 

Pabo  clenched  his  hands  and  teeth. 

Presently,  a  clatter  ;  and  through  the  gateway 
passed  the  cavalcade.  There  was  no  drawbridge 
at  Careg  Cennen  for  there  was  no  moat,  no  water  ; 
but  there  was  a  portcullis,  and  there  were  stout 
oak-barred  doors. 

After  the  departure  of  the  prelate,  the  castle  fell 
back  again  into  listlessness.  No  sounds  reached 
the  ear  of  Pabo,  save  the  occasional  footfall  of 
one  passing  across  the  court  with  the  leisurely 
pace  of  a  person  to  whom  time  was  of  no  value. 

On  this  day  the  prisoner  began  to  be  distressed 
for  water.  The  walls  of  his  cell,  being  of  pervious 
limestone,  absorbed  all  moisture  from  the  air,  so 
that  none  condensed  on  it.  In  the  morning  he 
had  swallowed  the  dry  crusts  with  difficulty.  He 
now  felt  that  his  lips  were  burning,  and  his  tongue 
becoming  dry.  If  food  were  brought  him  on  the 
morrow,  he  doubted  whether  he  would  then  be 
able  to  swallow  it. 


FORGOTTEN  ?  203 

But  relief  came  to  him  in  a  manner  he  had  not 
expected.  During  the  night  rain  fell,  and  he 
found  that  by  crouching  on  the  steps  and  putting 
his  fingers  beneath  the  door,  he  could  catch  the 
raindrops  as  they  trickled  down  the  oak  plank, 
and  convey  the  scanty  supply  by  this  means  to 
his  mouth.  But  with  the  first  glimpse  of  dawn 
he  saw  a  means  of  furnishing  water  that  was  more 
satisfactory.  With  his  fingers  he  scraped  a  chan- 
nel beneath  the  door  to  receive  the  falling  drops, 
and  then,  by  heaping  the  soil  beyond  this,  forced 
the  water  as  it  ran  down  the  door  and  dripped,  to 
decant  itself  in  a  small  stream  over  the  sill.  By 
this  means  he  was  able  to  catch  suflRcient  to 
assuage  the  great  agony  of  thirst. 

He  was  thus  engaged  when  suddenly  a  foot 
destroyed  his  contrivance,  and  next  moment  he 
heard  a  key  turned  in  the  lock. 

He  started  from  the  steps  on  which  he  was 
lying,  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and  before  him 
stood  a  mufified  female  figure,  against  the  gray 
early  morning  light,  diffused  through  thick  rain 
that  filled  the  castle  yard. 

Without  a  word  the  woman  signed  to  Pabo  to 
follow..  She  made  the  gesture  with  impatience, 
and  he  obeyed  without  hesitation. 


204  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  Follow  me  !  "  she  whispered  in  Welsh,  and 
strode  rapidly  before  him,  and  passed  through  a 
small  doorway,  a  very  few  steps  from  the  tower, 
yet  in  the  south  face  of  the  castle.  She  beckoned 
imperiously  to  him  to  enter,  then  closed  the  door 
on  him,  went  back  and  relocked  that  of  the  dun- 
geon. Next  moment  she  was  back  through  the 
small  door.  Pabo  found  himself  in  a  narrow  pas- 
sage that,  as  far  as  he  could  judge,  descended  by 
steps. 

The  woman  bolted  the  door  behind. 

The  place  was  dark,  but  she  led  on. 

The  way  descended  by  steps,  then  led  along  a 
narrow  passage,  with  rock  on  one  side  and  wall 
on  the  other,  till  she  reached  a  great  natural  vault 
— a  cave  opening  into  the  heart  of  the  crag  on 
which  the  castle  was  built.  And  here  the  passage 
terminated  in  a  wooden  stair  that  descended  into 
darkness,  only  illumined  by  one  point  of  red 
light. 

Still  she  descended,  and  Pabo  followed. 

Presently  she  was  at  the  bottom,  and  now  he 
saw  in  a  hollow  of  the  rock  on  one  side  a  little 
lamp  burning  with  a  lurid  flame. 

She  struck  ofT  the  glowing  snuff,  and  it  sent  up 
a  bright  spire  of  light. 


FORGOTTEN  ?  205 

"  Forgotten,"  said  she,  turning  to  Pabo,  and 
throwing  back  her  hood.  "Forgotten!  Nay, 
Nest  will  never  forget  one  of  her  own  people — 
never." 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  BRACELET    OF  MAXEN 

"  Look  at  me,"  said  Nest ;  "  I  am  the  daughter 
of  Rhys  and  sister  of  your  Prince  Griffith.  How  I 
have  been  treated  God  knows,  but  not  worse  than 
my  dear  country.  I  have  been  cast  into  the  arms 
of  one  of  its  oppressors,  and  I  welcome  it,  be- 
cause I  can  do  something  thereby  for  those  of 
my  people  who  suffer.  Griffith  is  about.  He 
will  do  great  things.  I  sent  him  with  warning  to 
you.  And  now  I  will  even  yet  save  you.  Know 
you  where  you  are  ?  Whither  I  have  brought 
you?  Come  further."  She  led  him  down  among 
the  smooth  shoulders  of  rock,  and  showed  him  pans 
scooped  in  the  limestone  ledges  that  brimmed 
with  water. 

There  was  no  well  in  Careg  Cennen.  It  would 
not  have  availed  to  have  sunk  one.  In  the  dry 
limestone   there    were   no    springs.     Gerald    the 

Norman  would  not  have  reared  his  castle  on  this 

206 


THE  BRACELET  OF  MAXEN        207 

barren  head  of  rock  had  he  not  known  that  water 
was  accessible  in  this  natural  cave. 

But  this  cavern  had  been  known  and  utilized 
long  before  the  Norman  adventurers  burst  into 
Wales.  At  some  remote  age,  we  know  not  how 
many  centuries  or  tens  of  centuries  before,  some 
warfaring  people  had  surrounded  the  top  of  the 
hill  with  a  wall  of  stones,  not  set  in  mortar,  but 
sustained  in  place  by  their  own  weight.  And  to 
supply  themselves  with  water,  they  had  cut  a 
path  like  a  thread  in  the  face  of  the  precipice  to 
the  mouth  of  a  gaping  cavern  that  could  be  seen 
only  from  the  slopes  of  the  Black  Mountains,  on 
the  further  side  of  the  Cennen  River. 

In  this  vault  water  incessantly  dripped,  not  in 
rapid  showers,  but  slowly  ;  in  wet  weather  more 
rapidly  than  at  times  of  dryness,  yet  even  in 
the  most  burning,  rainless  seasons,  there  never 
was  an  absolute  cessation  of  falling  drops.  To 
receive  these,  bowls  had  been  scooped  out  in 
ledges  of  rock  ;  and  hither  came  the  maidens  daily 
with  their  pitchers,  to  supply  the  wants  of  all  in 
the  castle.  What  the  Norman  builders  had  done 
was  to  broaden  the  path  by  cutting  deeper  into 
the  face  of  the  clifT,  and  to  build  up  the  face 
towards  the  precipice,  leaving   loopholes    at  in- 


2o8  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

tervals,  to  prevent  accidents  such  as  might  happen 
through  vertigo,  or  a  turn  of  an  ankle,  or  a  sHp 
on  the  polished  lime-rock.  The  whole  mouth  of 
the  cavern  had  also  been  walled  up,  so  that  no 
one  unacquainted  with  the  arrangements  within 
the  castle  would  have  suspected  its  existence. 

To  fill  the  pitchers  the  water-carriers  were 
furnished  with  Vv'ooden  spoons  and  shallow  ladles, 
with  which  they  scooped  up  the  liquid  from  the 
rock-basins  into  their  vessels. 

Hither  Nest,  the  wife  of  Gerald  of  Windsor, 
had  brought  Pabo.  She  had  learned  what  was 
the  doom  of  the  Archpriest  so  soon  as  the  in- 
terview was  over  between  him,  the  bishop,  and 
her  husband.  Nest  was  a  subtle  woman.  Lovely 
beyond  any  other  woman  in  Britain,  and  with 
that  exquisite  winsomeness  of  manner  which  only 
a  Celtic  woman  possesses,  which  a  Saxon  can  ape 
but  not  acquire,  she  was  able  when  she  exerted 
her  powers  to  cajole  Gerald,  and  obtain  from  him 
much  that  his  judgment  warned  him  he  should 
not  yield.  For  a  long  time  she  had  induced  him 
even  to  harbor  her  brother  Griffith,  but  he  did 
so  only  so  long  as  the  young  man  was  not  in 
open  revolt  against  King  Henry. 

She   had    not   on    this  occasion   attempted  to 


THE  BRACELET  OF  MAXEN        209 

induce  Gerald  to  mitigate  the  sentence  on  Pabo. 
She  reserved  her  cajolery  for  another  occasion. 
Now,  she  had  recourse  to  other  means.  With 
a  little  cleverness,  she  had  succeeded  in  securing 
the  key  of  the  dungeon  ;  but  for  her  own  good 
reasons  she  did  not  desire  that  her  husband  should 
learn,  or  even  suspect,  that  she  had  contrived  the 
escape  of  the  prisoner. 

Now  Pabo  stood  by  her  in  the  great  natural 
domed  vault  in  the  bowels  of  the  mountain, 
crowned  by  Careg  Cennen  Castle ;  and  by  the 
flicker  of  the  lamp  he  saw  her  face,  and  wondered 
at  its  beauty. 

"  Pabo,  priest  of  God  !  "    she  said,  and  her  face 

worked   with   emotion.      "  Heaven   alone  knows 

what  a  life  I  lead — a  double  life,  a  life  behind  a 

mask.     I   have  a  poor,  weak,  trembling  woman's 

heart,  that  bleeds  and  suffers   for  my  people.     I 

have  but  one  love — one   only  love,  that  fills  and 

flames  in  all  my  veins :  it  is  the  love  of  Wales,  of 

my  country,  my  beautiful,  my  sovereign  country. 

And,  O   God  !  my   people.     Touch  them,  and  I 

quiver  and   am   tortured,  and   durst  not  cry  out. 

Yet   am  I  linked  to  one  who  is  my  husband,  and 

I  belong  to  him   in  body.     Yet  hath  he  not  my 

immortal  soul,  he  hath  not  this  passionate  heart. 
14 


2IO  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

Nay  !     Not  one  single  drop  of  the  burning  Welsh 
blood  that  dances  and  boils  in  every  artery."     She 
clasped  her  hands  to  her  heart.     "  Oh,  Pabo,  my 
lot  is  in  sad  quarters  !     My  life  is  one  continuous 
martyrdom    for   my   country,  for  my   people,  for 
their  laws,  their  freedom,  their  Church !     What 
can    I    do  ?     Look    at    these    women's    fingers ! 
What  gifts  have  I  ?     Only  this   fair  face  and  this 
golden  hair,  and  a  little  mother  wit.     I  give  all  to 
the  good   cause.     And   now,"  she  became  more 
calm   in  tone,  and  she  put   forth  her  hand   and 
clasped    the   priest    by    the  wrist,  and   spake   in 
measured  tones,  though  her  finger-ends  worked 
nervously.     "  And  now — learn  this.     For  reasons 
that  I  cannot  speak  plainly,  I  would  not  have  my 
husband  know  that  I  have  contrived  thy  escape. 
And  I   cannot  contrive  to  pass  thee  out  through 
the  gates.     There  is  but  one  way  that  thou  canst 
be  freed.     See — the  women  come  hither  to  draw 
water,  and  the  door  creaks  on  its  hinges  whenso- 
ever opened.     When  thou  hearest  the  door  cry 
out,  then  hide  thee  under  the  stair,  or  yonder  in 
the    depth  of  the  cave.     None   of   the  wenches 
penetrate  further  than  these   basins.     But  after 
they  have  left — and  they  come  but  in    the   morn- 
ing and  at  eve — then  thou  hast  this  place  to  thy- 


THE  BRACELET  OF  MAXEN        211 

self.  Know  that  there  is  no  escape  downwards 
from  the  eyelet-holes.  It  is  a  sheer  fall — and  if 
that  were  adventured,  thou  wouldst  be  dashed  to 
pieces,  as  was  one  of  the  Normandy  masons  who 
was  engaged  on  the  wall.  He  lost  his  foothold 
and  fell — and  was  but  a  mangled  heap  at  the 
bottom.  No — that  way  there  is  no  escape.  I 
have  considered  well,  and  this  is  what  I  have 
devised."  She  paused  and  drew  a  long  breath. 
t  "  There  stands  a  stout  and  well-rooted  thorn-tree 
on  the  crag  above.  I  will  tarry  till  supper-time, 
when  my  lord  and  his  men  will  be  merry  over 
their  cups,  and  then  will  I  swing  a  bracelet — 
this."  She  took  off  a  twisted  serpent  of  gold, 
quaintly  wrought,  from  her  wrist.  "  This  I  will 
attach  to  a  string,  and  I  will  fasten  the  other  end 
to  the  thorn-tree.  Then  shall  the  bracelet  be 
swung  to  and  fro,  and  do  thou  remain  at  one  of 
the  loopholes,  and  put  forth  thine  hand  and  catch 
the  string  as  it  swings.  Hold  it  fast  and  draw  it 
in.  Then  I  will  attach  a  knotted  rope  to  the 
string,  and  do  thou  draw  on  until  thou  hast  hold 
of  the  rope.  Thereupon  I  will  make  the  other 
end  fast  to  the  thorn-tree,  and  as  thou  canst  not 
descend,  mount,  and  thou  art  free." 

Pabo  hesitated — then   said,  "  It  seems  to  me 


212  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

that  these  eyelet-holes  are  too  narrow  for  a  man's 
bod}^  to  pass  through." 

"  It  is  well  said,"  answered  Nest,  "  and  of  that 
I  have  thought.  Here  is  a  stout  dagger.  Whilst 
thou  canst,  work  out  the  mortar  from  between 
the  joints  of  the  masonry  about  the  window-slit 
yonder.  It  is  very  fresh  and  not  set  hard.  But 
remove  not  the  stone  till  need  be." 

"  I  will  do  so." 

"And  as  to  the  bracelet,"  continued  Nest,  "  it 
is  precious  to  me,  and  must  not  be  left  here  to 
betray  what  I  have  done.  Bring  it  away  with 
thee." 

"  And  when  I  reach  the  thorn-tree  then  I  will 
restore  it  thee." 

"  Nay,"  rejoined  Nest,  "take  it  with  thee,  and 
go  find  my  brother  Griffith,  wherever  he  be,  and 
give  it  to  him.  Know  this  :  it  was  taken  from 
the  cairn  of  Maxen  Wlledig,  the  Emperor  of  Brit- 
ain, whose  wife  was  a  Welsh  princess,  and  whose 
sons  ruled  in  Britain,  and  of  whose  blood  are  we. 
Tell  him  to  return  me  my  bracelet  within  the 
walls  of  Dynevor.  Tell  him  " — her  breath  came 
fast  and  like  flame  from  her  lips — "  tell  him  that 
I  will  not  wear  it  till  he  restore  it  to  me  in  the 
castle  of  our  father — in  the    royal  halls   of  our 


THE  BRACELET  OF  MAXEN        213 

ancestors,  the  Kings  of  Dyfed,  and  has  fed  the 
ravens  of  Dynevor  with  English  flesh." 

Again  she  calmed  down. 

A  strange  passionate  woman.  At  one  moment 
flaming  into  consuming  heat,  then  lulling  down 
to  calm  and  coolness.  It  was  due  to  the  double 
life  she  lived  ;  the  false  face  she  was  constrained 
to  assume,  and  the  undying,  inextinguishable  pa- 
triotic ardor  that  ate  out  her  heart,  that  was  so 
closely  and  for  so  long  time  smothered,  but  which 
must  at  times  force  itself  into  manifestation. 
Pabo,  looking  into  that  wondrous  face,  by  the 
flicker  of  the  little  lamp,  saw  in  it  a  whole  story 
of  sorrow,  shame,  rage,  love,  and  tenderness 
mapped  out. 

A  strange  and  terrible  life-story  had  hers  been 
— even  in  young  days. 

She  had  been  taken  from  her  home  while  quite 
a  child,  and  committed  as  a  hostage  to  the  charge 
of  Henry  Beauclerk  ;  he  had  done  her  the  worst 
outrage  that  could  have  been  offered — when  she 
was  helpless,  an  alien  from  her  home  and  people 
in  his  power.  Then,  without  caring  whether  she 
liked  the  man  or  not,  he  had  married  her  to 
Gerald  of  Windsor,  the  spoliator,  the  ravager  of 
South   Wales.     Once,  Owen  ap  Cadogan,  son  of 


214  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

the  Prince  of  Cadogan,  had  seen  her  at  a  banquet 
and  eisteddfod  given  by  her  father  at  Aberteiri, 
to  which  the  kings,  princes,  and  lords  of  Wales 
had  been  invited.  Among  all  the  fair  ladies  there 
assembled  none  approached  in  beauty  the  young 
Princess  Nest,  daughter  of  King  Rhys,  and  wife 
of  Gerald  of  Windsor.  Owen  went  mad  with 
love.  On  the  plea  of  kinship  he  visited  her  in 
Pembroke  Castle,  set  it  on  fire,  and  while  it  was 
blazing  carried  her  away  into  Powys. 

Nor  was  she  an  unwilling  victim  :  she  accom- 
panied him,  but  only  because  she  trusted  that  he 
would  rouse  all  Wales  and  unite  North  and  South 
in  one  great  revolt  against  the  power  of  Eng- 
land. And,  indeed,  at  his  summons,  like  a  wild- 
fire, revolt  had  spread  through  Dyfed,  Cardigan, 
and  southern  Powys.  Only  North  Wales  re- 
mained unmoved.  The  struggle  was  brief — the 
Cymri  were  poor  and  deficient  in  weapons  of 
war,  and  were  unable  to  withstand  the  compact 
masses  hurled  against  them,  in  perfect  military 
discipline,  and  securing  every  stride  by  the  erec- 
tion of  a  stronghold.  Owen,  carrying  with  him 
plenty  of  spoil,  fled  to  Ireland,  where  he  was 
hospitably  received,  and  Gerald  recovered  his 
wife.     She  was  disillusioned.     Owen   sought   no 


THE  BRACELET  OF  MAXEN       215 

nobler  end  than  the  amassing  of  plunder  and  the 
execution  of  vindictive  revenge  on  such  as  had 
offended  him.  His  ferocity  had  alienated  from 
him  the  hearts  of  his  people,  for  his  sword  had 
been  turned  rather  against  such  of  his  own  kin 
who  had  incurred  his  resentment  than  against  the 
common  foe. 

Into  Cardigan,  the  realm  of  Owen's  father, 
Strongbow  had  penetrated,  and  had  planted 
castles. 

Presently,  harboring  treachery  in  his  heart, 
Owen  returned  from  Ireland  and  threw  himself 
into  the  arms  of  Henry  Beauclerk,  who  flattered 
him  with  promises  and  took  him  in  his  company 
to  Normandy,  where  he  bestowed  on  Owen  the 
honor  of  knighthood,  and  had  converted  him 
into  a  creature  ready  to  do  his  pleasure  without 
scruple, 

Pembroke  Castle  had  been  rebuilt,  Carmarthen 
was  girt  with  iron-bound  towers;  in  rear,  Strong- 
bow  was  piling  up  fortresses  at  Aberystwyth  and 
Dingeraint. 

"  See  !  "  said  Nest  ;  "  poorly  hast  thou  fared 
hitherto.  I  have  laid  in  a  store  of  food  for  thee 
under  the  stair.  Be  ready  just  before  nightfall. 
Lay  hold  of  the  golden  bracelet,  and  retain  it  till 


2i6  PABO,  THE   PRIEST 

thou  encounterest  Griffith,  then  give  it  him  with 
my  message.  Let  him  return  it  me  in  our  father's 
ruined  hall  of  Dynevor,  when  it  is  his  own  once 
more." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

SANCTUARY 

ROGIER  was  pacing  up  and  down  in  the  house 
of  which  he  had  taken  possession.  On  the  table 
lay,  heaped  in  bags  of  woven  grass,  the  fine  that 
had  been  imposed  on  the  tribe.  All  had  been 
paid.  The  elders  had  endeavored  hard  to  in- 
duce him  to  accept  two-thirds  from  them  and  to 
levy  the  remainder  on  Cadell  ;  but  he  bade  them 
squeeze  their  Archpriest — he  was  not  going  to 
trouble  himself  to  do  that — and  the  rest  of  the 
silver  was  produced.  The  men  hoped  to  be  able 
to  recoup  themselves  later  by  deducting  this 
third  from  their  payments  to  the  pastor  thrust 
upon  them. 

As  Pabo  had  been  secured,  Rogier  had  released 
those  who  were  detained  in  the  court-house ; 
they  had  returned  to  their  homes. 

It  was  anticipated  that  now  the  Norman  would 

withdraw  along  with  his  men  ;  he  had  no  further 

217 


2i8  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

excuse  for  remaining.  But  he  gave  not  the  small- 
est token  of  an  intention  to  remove. 

Cadell  had  entered.  He  also  wished  to  know 
how  long  the  foreigners  would  tarry  in  the  place. 
So  long  as  they  were  there  it  would  be  impossible 
for  him  to  come  to  friendly  terms  with  his  flock. 
Yet,  though  he  desired  that  the  bulk  of  the  men- 
at-arms,  along  with  their  captain,  should  withdraw, 
he  did  not  by  any  means  desire  to  be  left  com- 
pletely alone  in  the  midst  of  a  population  that  re- 
garded him  with  a  malevolent  eye,  were  unwil- 
ling to  receive  his  ministrations,  acknowledge  his 
authority,  and  even  show  him  ordinary  civility. 

He  had  accordingly  entered  the  house  in  the 
hopes  of  arranging  with  the  bishop's  brother 
terms  whereby  he  might  have  two  or  four  men 
left  in  Caio  to  support  him  in  emergencies  with- 
out being  ostensibly  his  servants. 

A  plea  might  easily  be  found  in  the  refractory 
humor  of  the  people  for  a  small  guard  to  be  left 
till  they  proved  more  complaisant. 

Near  the  door,  against  the  wall,  Morwen  was 
seated,  pale  but  resolved,  with  her  hands  folded. 

"You  seem  to  be  in  a  vast  impatience  to  see 
my  back,"  said  Rogier,  "  but  let  me  tell  you. 
Master  Chaplain,  I  like  this  place.     It  lyeth  well 


SANCTUARY  219 

to  the  sun,  the  soil  is  fertile  and  amply  watered. 
It  is  suitably  timbered,  and  methinks  there  is 
building-stone  here  that  might  serve  to  construct 
a  stronghold.  I  have  looked  about  me  and 
fancied  Pen-y-ddinas.  It  crieth  out  for  a  castle  to 
stand  upon  it — dominating,  as  it  doth,  the  whole 
valley." 

"  A  castle  for  the  bishop  ?  " 

"  Oh  I  save  your  presence  and  clergy.  It  is 
well  for  one  to  feather  one's  own  nest  first.  As 
to  the  Church,  hers  is  downy  enough  without 
needing  to  pluck  more  geese  to  make  her  easier," 

"  Then  for  whom  ?  " 

"  For  myself,  of  course.  This  is  a  fair  district ; 
it  is  girded  about  with  mountains  ;  it  has  been 
occupied  for  centuries  by  a  thrifty  people  who 
have  hoarded  their  silver.  Methinks  I  could  soon 
contrive  to  make  of  it  a  barony  of  Caio  for  my- 
self." 

"  But,"  said  Cadell,  aghast,  "  these  be  Church 
lands.     You  would  not  rob  the  Church  ?  " 

"  By  no  means  are  they  Church  lands.  This  is 
tribal  land,  and  it  so  chances  that  the  head  of  the 
tribe  has  been  for  some  time — how  long  I  know 
not — an  ecclesiastic.     But  that  is  an  accident." 

"  It  is  the  sanctuary  of  David." 


220  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"But  not  the  property  of  the  see  of  David.  It 
is  the  sanctuary  of  Cynwyl,  I  take  it ;  and  it  has  so 
fallen  out  that  the  inheritor  of  the  chieftainship  has 
been  for  some  years — it  may  be  centuries — in 
priestly  orders.  But  as  to  belonging  to  the  see, 
that  it  never  did.  Now  I  take  it,  there  shall  be 
a  separation  of  powers,  and  I  will  assume  the 
secular  rule,  and  constitute  myself  Baron  of  Caio 
— and  thou,  if  it  please  thee,  shalt  be  Archpriest, 
and  exercise  ecclesiastical  authority.  It  will  be 
best  so — then  I  and  my  bull-dogs  will  be  ever 
hard  by  to  help  thee  in  thy  difficulties." 

"  The  bishop  will  never  agree  to  this." 

"  He  must.  Am  I  going  to  fight  his  battles 
and  not  be  paid  for  it,  and  fix  my  price  ?  " 

"  Does  he  know  of  thy  purpose?  " 

"  I  care  not  whether  he  do  or  not.  I  shall  take 
my  course,  and  he  cannot  oppose  me,  because 
he  dare  not.  By  the  soul  of  the  Conqueror,  Sir 
Chaplain,  these  fat  farmers  ooze  with  money.  I 
have  but  given  them  a  little  squeeze,  and  they 
have  run  out  silver — it  is  yonder,  dost  mark  it  ? 
Hast  thou  seen  cider  made  ?  They  make  it  in 
my  country.  The  apples  are  chopped  up  and 
cast  into  a  broad,  stone-grooved  trough,  and  a 
lever    is   brought    to    bear,  laden  with  immense 


SANCTUARY  221 

weights,  to  crush  them.  You  should  see,  man, 
how  the  juice  runs  out,  and  you  would  say  that 
there  was  never  another  drop  of  liquor  in  them. 
Then  the  lever  is  raised,  and  the  weight  shifted  ; 
next  with  a  knife  the  apple-cheese  is  pared  all 
round  and  the  parings  are  cast  up  in  the  middle. 
Again  the  lever  is  worked,  and  out  flows  as  much 
as  at  first,  till  again  it  appears  that  all  is  drained 
away.  And  this  process  is  renewed  to  five  times, 
and  every  time  out  pours  the  generous  and  sweet 
must.  It  is  not  with  apples  as  with  grapes. 
These  latter  once  well  pressed  yield  all — apples 
must  be  pressed  to  six  and  even  seven  times.  My 
Cadell — these  peasants  are  juicy  apples.  If  I  send 
this  first  squeeze  to  my  brother,  I  reserve  the 
after  outgushes  for  mine  own  drinking," 

Cadell  looked  down  disconcerted.  He  knew 
very  well  that  Rogier's  scheme  would  mean  the 
shrinkage  to  but  little  of  his  power  and  profits, 

"  You  do  not  understand  this  people,"  said  he, 
after  some  consideration,  "  You  will  drive  them 
to  desperation  with  your  rough  treatment.  They 
are  a  kindly  and  a  gentle  folk  that  are  easily  led, 
but  ill  driven." 

"  Well,  now,"  said  Rogier,  and  laughed.  He 
halted,  leaned   against  the  table,  and   folded  his 


222  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

arms;  "it  is  so;  but  I  have  a  scheme  such  as  will 
reconcile  the  tribe  of  Cynwyl  to  my  rule.  And 
thou  art  come  here  suitably  at  this  moment  to 
assist  me  in  carrying  it  out." 

"What  wouldest  thou?"  asked  Cadell  sulkily. 

"It  is  even  this,"  answered  Rogier,  and  again 
he  laughed.  "  Dost  see  ?  I  have  been  courting 
a  pretty  wench.  But  it  is  bad  wooing  when  I 
cannot  speak  a  word  of  Welsh  and  she  as  little  of 
French.  Now,  Sir  Priest,  be  my  go-between,  and 
say  sweet  and  tender  words  to  her  from  me,  and 
bring  me  back  her  replies  of  the  same  savor." 

"  I  cannot !  I  will  not !  "  exclaimed  the  chap- 
lain indignantly. 

"  I  ask  of  thee  nothing  dishonest,"  said  Rogier; 
"  far  otherwise.  I  have  a  fancy  to  make  the 
pretty  Morwen  my  wife — and  Baroness  Caio. 
Tell  her  that — all  in  good  sooth  and  my  purpose 
honorable,  the  Church  shall  be  called  to  bless  us." 

"  She  is  another  man's  wife  !  " 

"  Nay,  nay,  a  priest's  leman— that  is  all.  And 
if  that  stick  in  thy  throat,  be  conscience-smoothed. 
By  this  time  Pabo  is  no  more.  I  know  my 
brother's  temper.  He  is  a  man  who  never  for- 
gives ;  and  the  loss  of  a  pair  of  teeth  is  not  that 
he  will  pass  over." 


SANCTUARY  223 

"  But  he  does  not  hold  that  this  man  you  have 
sent  him  is  Pabo." 

"  Pshaw  !  he  knows  better.  Whether  he  be 
Pabo,  or  whether  he  be  not,  Bernard  will  never 
suffer  him  to  live  a  week  after  he  has  him  between 
his  two  palms.  Therefore,  seeing  Morwen  is  a 
widow,  and  free,  now,  all  is  plain,  my  intent  is 
good.  If  I  marry  her — who  has  been  the  wife  of 
the  chieftain  of  the  tribe,  I  enter  upon  all  his 
rights  so  far  as  they  are  secular ;  those  that  be 
ecclesiastical  I  leave  to  thee." 

"  Not  so,"  said  Cadell  sharply.  "  She  is  no 
heiress.     She  is  not  of  the  blood." 

"  Oh !  she  shall  be  so  esteemed.  Scripture  is 
with  me — man  and  wife  be  no  more  twain  but  one 
flesh,  so  that  she  enters  into  all  his  rights,  and  I 
take  them  over  along  with  her.  It  will  smooth 
the  transfer.  The  people  will  like  it,  or  will  gulp 
down  what  is  forced  on  them,  and  pretend  to  be 
content." 

"  This  is  preposterous — the  heir  to  the  tribal 
rights  is  Goronwy,  the  cousin  of  Pabo." 

"That  cripple?  The  people  would  not  have 
him  before  to  rule  over  them.  They  will  not 
now.  Let  them  look  on  him  and  then  on  me  ; 
there  can  be    but  one    decision.     If  there  be  a 


224  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

doubt,  I  shall  contrive  to  get  the  weasel  out  of 
the  way.  And,  moreover,"  said  Rogier,  who 
chuckled  over  his  scheme,  "  all  here  are  akin — • 
that  is  why  there  was  such  a  to-do  about  the  seven 
degrees.  It  hit  them  all.  I  warrant  ye,  when 
gone  into,  it  will  be  found  that  she  has  in  her  the 
blood  of .     What  is  the  name  ?  " 

"  Cunedda." 

"  Aye,  of  that  outlandish  old  forefather.  If  not, 
I  can  make  it  so.  There  is  a  man  here — Meredith 
they  call  him — a  bard  and  genealogist.  I  have  a 
pair  of  thumb-screws,  and  I  can  spoil  his  harping 
forever  unless  he  discover  that  the  pretty  wench 
whom  I  design  for  myself,  to  be  my  Baroness 
Caio,  be  lineally  descended  from — I  cannot  mind 
the  name — and  be,  after  Goronwy,  the  legitimate 
heir  to  all  the  tribal  rights.  Cadell,  you  can  make 
a  man  say  and  swear  to  anything  with  the  per- 
suasion of  thumb-screws.     A  rare  institution." 

The  chaplain  said  nothing  to  this.  It  was  a 
proposition  that  did  not  admit  of  dispute. 

A  good  many  of  the  Norman  barons  had  taken 
the  Welsh  heiresses  to  them  as  a  means  of  dis- 
arming the  opposition  they  encountered,  perhaps 
feeling  a  twinge  of  compunction  at  their  methods 
of  appropriation  of  lands  by  the  sword.     Gerald 


SANCTUARY  225 

of  Windsor,  as  we  have  seen,  was  married  to 
a  princess  of  the  royal  race  of  Dyfed,  though  not, 
indeed,  an  heiress.  A  knight  occupying  a  sub- 
ordinate position,  if  he  chanced  to  secure  as  wife 
the  heiress  of  some  Welsh  chief,  at  once  claimed 
all  her  lands  and  rights,  and  sprang  at  once  into 
the  position  of  a  great  baron. 

"  Come,  sweetheart !  "  exclaimed  Rogier  bois- 
terously, and  went  up  to  Morwen  and  caught  her 
by  the  chin.  "  Look  me  in  the  face  and  say 
'Aye!  '  and  I  will  put  a  coronet  of  pearls  on  thy 
black  hair." 

She  shrank  from  him — not  indeed,  understand- 
ing his  words,  but  comprehending  that  she  was 
treated  with  disrespect. 

"  Speak  to  her,  you  fool !  "  said  Rogier  angrily. 
"  She  must  be  told  what  I  purpose.  If  not  by 
you  then  by  Pont  I'Espec,  whom  I  will  call  in. 
But  by  the  Conqueror's  paunch,  I  do  not  care  to 
do  my  wooing  through  the  mouth  of  a  common 
serving-man." 

Cadell  stood  up  from  the  seat  into  which  he 
had  lowered  himself  and  approached  Morwen. 

"  Hark  y'  !  "  said  the  Norman  ;  "  no  advice  of 
thine  own.  I  can  see  thou  likest  not  my  design. 
Say  my  words,  give  my  message,  and  bear  me 
IS 


226  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

back  her  reply — and  thrust  in  naught  of  thy  mind, 
and  thy  suasion." 

"What,  then,  shall  I  say?" 

"  Tell  her  that  I  am  not  one  to  act  with  vio- 
lence unless  thwarted,  and  in  this  particular 
thwarted  I  will  not  be.  Tell  her  that  I  desire 
that  she  shall  be  my  wife ;  and  say  that  I  will 
make  myself  baron  over  this  district  of  Caio — 
King  Henry  will  deny  me  nothing  I  wot — and  she 
shall  rule  and  reign  the  rest  of  her  days  by  a 
soldier's  side,  instead  of  by  that  of  a  cassocked 
clerk." 

Cadell  translated  the  offer. 

Morwen's  large  deep  eyes  were  fixed  on  him 
intently  as  he  spoke,  and  her  lips  trembled. 

"  I  must  give  an  answer,"  said  the  priest. 

Then  Morwen  rose  and  replied  :  "  He  will 
surely  give  me  time   to  consider." 

"  Aye,  aye,  till  to-morrow,"  said  Rogier  when 
her  words  were  translated  to  him. 

Thereupon  Morwen  bowed  and  left  the  house. 

Rogier  took  a  step  towards  the  door,  but  Cadell 
stayed  him.  "  Give  her  till  to-morrow  to  be 
alone." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  to-morrow  shall  settle 
it." 


SANCTUARY  227 

Cadell  left,  and  instead  of  seeking  his  lodging 
he  went  into  the  church. 

There,  to  his  surprise,  he  saw  a  woman — it  was 
Morwen,  clinging  to  the  wicker-work  screen. 

"  It  is  sanctuary  !  It  is  sanctuary  !  "  she  cried, 
as  she  saw  him.     "  They  shall  not  tearme  hence." 

"  Nay,"  said  Cadell ;  "  that  they  dare  not.  I 
will  maintain  thy  right  to  sanctuary.  It  is  well. 
To  Cynwyl  thou  hast  appealed.  Cynwyl  shall 
protect  thee." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

IN  OGOFAU 

In  the  darkness,  Goronwy  was  lurking  about 
the  church.  He  was  the  first  to  communicate  to 
Rogier  that  Morwen  had  taken  sanctuary.  The 
Norman,  angry,  bade  him  watch  and  not  suffer 
her  to  leave  without  informing  him  whither  she 
had  betaken  herself.  She  could  not  remain  there 
indefinitely.  It  was  a  custom  that  sanctuary  held 
for  '•even  days  and  nights,  and  that  if  the  clergy 
could  not  send  away  a  refugee  during  that  time, 
the  right  of  protection  afforded  by  the  sacredness 
of  the  precincts  ceased  in  that  particular  case. 

Rogier  was  wounded  in  his  vanity,  but  not 
greatly  concerned.  He  was  certain  that  she  could 
not  escape  him  eventually. 

A  hand  was  laid  on  Goronwy 's  shoulder  ;  he 
started  with  terror,  and  his  alarm  was  not  lessened 
when  Pabo  addressed  him,  "  What  are  you  doing 
here,  Goronwy  ?  " 


22 


8 


IN  OGOFAU  229 

"  Oh,  Pabo  !  we  have  feared  you  were  lost." 

"  As  you  see — I  am  returned.  What  are  you 
doing  here  ?  " 

"  Alas  !  I  have  no  proper  home — no  more  than 
you.     Do  you  ask  then  why  I  am  about  at  night  ?  " 

'*  Poor  boy  !  poor  boy !  Well,  I  would  have 
you  do  me  a  commission  now.  I  must  not  be 
seen  here;  yet  would  communicate  with  my  wife. 
Where  is  Morwen  ?  " 

Gorony  hesitated  but  for  a  moment,  and  then 
answered,  "  I  do  not  know." 

"  She  is  not  now  with  Howel  ?  " 

"  No,  sent  elsewhere.     Perhaps  to  Llansawel." 

"  You  must  find  her,  and  bid  her  come  to  me." 

"  Whither  shall  I  bid  her  go  ?  " 

"  Bid  her  come  to  me  in  Ogofau." 

"  In  Ogofau  ? "  echoed  Goronwy,  shrinking 
back. 

"  There  is  one  thing  more  I  desire,"  pursued 
Pabo.  "  Go  into  the  church  and  bring  me  thence 
one  of  those  coils  of  taper  that  hang  in  front  of 
the  screen." 

"  Taper  !  "  in  all  but  speechless  astonishment. 

"Yes;  I  am  going  to  enter  the  old  mine.  I 
Qo  not  hesitate  to  tell  you,  as  one  in  blood,  in 
hopes,  in  sufferings  with  me.     I  am  going  to  enter 


230  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

the  mine,  and  would  fain  have  a  consecrated 
light." 

"  I  will  get  it  at  once,"  said  Goronwy,  and  went 
within.  What  could  this  mean  ?  What  was 
Pabo's  object  ?  Within  the  church  two  lamps 
burnt  in  the  sanctuary,  but  without  all  was  dark, 
yet  in  the  darkness  he  could  see  Morwen  crouched 
against  the  screen.  A  Celtic  church  had  build- 
ings connected  with  it — a  guest  hall  in  which  the 
congregation  could  assemble  and  take  a  meal 
after  divine  service,  stables  for  horses,  and  even 
sleeping  apartments.  All  were  surrounded  by 
the  privilege  of  sanctuary  ;  yet  Morwen  remained 
in  the  church,  fearing  lest  these  adjuncts  should 
not  meet  with  the  same  respect  as  the  main  build- 
ing, the  house  of  God. 

Against  the  screen  were  hung  a  number  of 
twisted  wax  tapers,  forming  coils.  These  were 
employed  on  vigils  and  at  the  Pylgain,  or  Christ- 
mas Eve  service  at  night.  One  of  these  Goronwy 
took  down.  He  said  no  word  to  Morwen,  but 
went  out  as  silently  as  he  had  entered. 

"  I  thank  you,"  said  Pabo.  "  I  would  not  enter 
myself  lest  Cadell  should  be  there,  and  he  recog- 
nize me." 

"You    need    not    have    feared   that,"  laughed 


IN  OGOFAU  231 

Goronwy.      "  He    is  not    one  to  spend  hours  in 
prayer.     He  is  not  there." 

"  Then  will  I  enter  and  pray." 

"  Nay,"  Goronwy  interposed.  "  There  are 
others  there  who  it  were  well  should  not  see 
you." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  Pabo.  "  And  now— find  Mor- 
wen,  aye — and  speak  with  Howel  also.  Tell  him 
naught  of  Ogofau.  I  shall  have  something  to  say 
shortly  that  will  make  the  hearts  of  all  Welshmen 
dance." 

"  And  will  you  not  tell  me  ?  " 

"  All  in  good  time,  lad.  As  yet  I  cannot  say,  for 
in  sooth  it  is  an  expectation  and  not  a  certainty." 

Then  he  departed. 

Goronwy  leaned  against  the  church  wall,  look- 
ing in  the  direction  he  had  taken,  perplexed  and 
not  knowing  what  he  should  do. 

Pabo  took  his  course  over  the  brawling  Annell, 
below  the  church,  and  mounted  a  spur  of  hill, 
among  woods,  till  he  came  to  a  hollow,  an  in- 
cipient glen  that  ran  west,  and  opposite  rose  a 
rounded  height  crowned  by  a  camp,  the  Caer  of 
ancient  Cynyr,  the  father  of  the  Five  Saints.  It 
was  thence  these  holy  brothers  had  descended  to 
place  themselves  under  the  tuition  of  Cynwyl.     It 


232  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

was  when  these  five  had  disappeared  into  the 
gold-mine  that  the  father  had  surrendered  his 
principality  to  the  missionary  who  had  come 
among  them  from  the  North,  and  thus  had  consti- 
tuted the  Archpriesthood,  holding  a  chieftaindom 
over  the  Caio  district. 

And  now  Pabo  descended  among  stumps  of 
trees  and  broken  masses  of  stone,  and  all  at  once 
stood  on  the  edge  of  a  great  crater,  into  which 
the  silvery  light  of  the  moon  from  behind  a  haze 
flowed,  and  which  it  filled.  Out  of  this  circular 
basin  shot  up  a  spire  of  rock,  called  the  Belfry  of 
Gwen — of  her  who  dared  to  enter  the  mine  to 
spy  on  the  Saints  in  their  magic  sleep. 

Cautiously  Pabo  descended  the  steep  side, 
where  the  rubble,  sifted  for  gold,  sloped  to  the 
floor. 

On  reaching  the  bottom  he  looked  around  him. 

He  was  in  an  amphitheater  of  rock,  here  abrupt, 
there  buried  under  slopes  of  detritus. 

The  moon  came  out  and  sent  the  shadow  of 
Gwen's  Belfry  across  the  level  white  floor  of  the 
mine. 

What  the  Romans  had  done  was  to  scoop  out 
the  interior  of  a  nodule  of  hill,  much  as  we  now 
dig  out  the  inside   of  a  Stilton   cheese,  and  leave 


IN  OGOFAU  233 

the  walls  intact.  But  there  existed  this  dif- 
ference :  that  the  walls  were  not  like  a  cheese- 
rind,  that  could  be  pierced  through.  They  were 
but  portions  of  the  mountain,  into  which,  by- 
adits  from  the  crater,  the  miners  had  burrowed. 
Most  of  these  old  tunnels  were  choked,  some 
hidden  under  slides  of  rubble,  but  one  gaped  black, 
and  it  was  into  this  that  the  Five  Saints  had  en- 
tered according  to  legend,  and  Gwen  also.  And 
now  Pabo  was  about  to  penetrate  as  well.  Doubt 
of  the  reality  of  the  discovery  made  by  the  her- 
mit had  departed.  He  was  fully  convinced  that 
he  would  light  on  the  hoard.  His  sole  fear  was 
left  he  should  forget  the  directions  he  had  seen 
traced  on  the  plank. 

There  was  little  wind  now,  below  in  this  bowl. 
He  struck  flint  and  steel  together  and  obtained  a 
light.  Then  he  kindled  his  wax  taper,  signed 
himself  with  the  cross,  and  entered  the  cave. 

For  some  way  in,  the  floor  was  covered  with 
stones  that  had  been  thrown  in.  The  roof  was 
higher  than  his  head  and  was  arched. 

This  was  no  natural  cavern  like  that  under 
Careg  Cennen.  This  was  cut  by  man's  hand,  out 
of  rock  very  different  in  character,  color,  and 
texture  from  the  limestone. 


234  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

The  light  from  his  taper  glittered  in  the  water 
that  trickled  over  the  sides,  and  in  the  pools  that 
here  and  there  lay  in  the  footway.  There  were 
no  stalagmites.  Pabo  could  distinguish  the 
marks  of  the  picks  used  to  excavate  the  adit. 
All  at  once  he  was  startled  by  a  rushing  and 
whistling. 

He  drew  back,  and  past  him  swept  legions  of 
bats  that  had  hitherto  lived  undisturbed  in  this 
cave.  They  came  back,  flickered  near  his  face, 
threatened  his  light,  and  he  shouted  and  threw 
stones.  Then — he  saw,  heard  them  no  more. 
They  had  issued  from  the  portal  and  had  gone 
to  hunt  under  the  open  sky. 

Now  the  ground  rose  ;  there  had  been  an  ac- 
cumulation of  soil,  and  he  was  forced  to  bend 
low  to  pass  on.  But  presently  the  floor  sank  and 
the  vault  was  loftier,  and  he  pursued  his  course 
erect. 

The  ground  now  was  hard  rock,  not  earth,  and 
it  rang  under  his  steps.  It  was  also  dry.  The 
air  was  intensely  still. 

The  candle  cast  but  a  feeble  light,  and  that  but 
imperfectly  illumined  the  way  before  him.  He 
could  best  see  by  holding  it  above  his  head,  yet 
was  able  to  do  this  only  where  the  arched  roof 


IN  OGOFAU  235 

was  high,  and  he  ever  feared  lest  it  should  strike 
on  a  rock  and  become  extinguished. 

The  passage  bulged  and  became  a  hall,  and 
here  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  saw  some  blue 
object  before  him.  He  stood,  uncertain  what  it 
was,  and  whether  to  venture  towards  it.  Pres- 
ently he  discovered  that  it  was  a  patch  of  light, 
a  reflection  of  some  of  the  moonlit  vapor  in  the 
sky  falling  through  a  small  orifice  far,  far  above 
in  a  dome,  the  height  of  which  he  could  not 
measure.  In  contrast  with  the  yellow  flame  of 
his  candle,  this  feeble  spot  had  looked  blue 
as  a  turquoise.  He  tried  to  recollect  the  plan 
sketched  on  the  board,  and  he  did  remember 
that  this  hall  was  there  indicated,  with  Ibi  lu- 
tne7i  scrawled  beside  it.  He  traversed  this  hall 
and  entered  another  passage,  or  a  continuance 
of  the  same,  beyond.  Then  he  put  his  hand 
to  his  brow,  and  endeavored  to  recall  the  sketch 
of  the  mine — and  felt  that  it  was  gone  from 
him. 

While  lying  in  prison  at  Careg  Cennen  he  had 
recalled  it  distinctly — he  now,  indeed,  remem- 
bered that  there  was  a  direction  in  sinistram  or  ad 
dextrani,  he  could  not  now  say  which,  and  where 
the  turn  was  to  be  made.     However,  there  surely 


236  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

could  be  no  mistake — as  he  had  the  way  open 
before  him. 

Hitherto  he  had  felt  no  fear.  Possibly  his 
incarceration  in  partial  darkness  had  accustomed 
him  to  some  such  places  ;  he  pushed  on,  more- 
over, animated  with  hope.  And  he  placed  some 
confidence  in  his  blessed  taper  from  the  church 
of  the  patron  of  his  family  and  tribe. 

But  suddenly  he  sprang  back,  and  only  just  in 
time.  In  front  of  him,  occupying  the  whole 
width  of  the  passage,  was  a  hole.  How  deep  it 
w^as  he  had  some  means  of  judging  by  hearing 
the  bound  and  rebound  of  a  stone  dislodged  by 
his  foot. 

"  Cave  putemn ;  "  now  he  recalled  the  warn- 
ing. 

He  crept  forward  cautiously,  and  extended  his 
light  over  the  gulf.  It  illumined  the  sides  but  a 
little  way  down.  Judging  by  the  time  a  stone 
took  in  falling  before  it  plashed  into  water,  it 
must  have  been  about  fifty  feet  in  depth. 

The  well  was  not  large  at  the  mouth.  And 
now  Pabo  distinctly  remembered  that  the  T/ie- 
saurus  was  not  far  beyond  it. 

It  did  not  occur  to  him  to  return.  He  was  so 
near  the  goal  that  reach  it  he  must. 


IN  OGOFAU  237 

He  examined  attentively  the  sides.  Not  a 
thread  of  a  track  existed  whereby  the  abyss  might 
be  skirted.  There  were  no  pieces  of  wood  about 
by  means  of  which  it  could  be  bridged. 

The  well's  mouth  was  but  four  feet  in  diameter. 
Surely  he  could  leap  that  ! 

He  stepped  back  two,  three  strides,  and 
bounded.  He  reached  the  ground  beyond,  but 
in  the  spring  his  light  was  extinguished. 

The  snufT  was  glowing,  and  he  blew  on  it,  but 
it  would  not  flame. 

"  It  matters  not,"  said  he.  "  I  have  my  tinder 
and  steel ;  I  can  relight  it.  Now  on,  on  to  the 
gold  !  " 

He  stepped  forward  in  the  dark,  but  holding 
the  taper  with  the  smoldering  snuff.  Then  his 
steps  sounded  as  though  he  were  in  a  wide  cham- 
ber. He  held  out  his  hands  ;  the  walls  had  fallen 
away.  A  few  steps  further,  and  he  stumbled, 
and  stumbling,  dropped  on  his  knees,  and  saw  by 
the  expiring  light  of  the  snuff — the  glint  of  ingots 
of  gold. 

The  last  spark  went  out,  and  he  was  in  com- 
plete darkness. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

AURI   MOLES   PR^GRANDIS 

Pabo  rose  to  his  feet  at  once.  He  had  seen, 
he  had  touched  the  gold.  The  wax  taper  had 
dropped  from  his  hand  as  he  fell.  He  groped 
for  it  and  soon  found  it.  Then  he  put  his  hand 
to  his  pouch  for  flint  and  steel.  They  were  not 
there.  He  searched  the  breast  of  his  tunic.  They 
were  not  there  either.  Then  he  passed  his  hand 
over  the  floor,  thinking  that  he  might  have 
dropped  them  from  his  pouch  when  he  fell.  As 
yet  he  was  not  alarmed,  rather  concerned,  as  he 
was  impatient  to  see  the  treasure.  Kneeling,  he 
groped  on  all  sides  of  him,  but  could  not  find 
what  he  sought.  His  hand  touched  ingots  ;  that 
he  knew  by  their  shape,  and  that  they  were  of 
gold  he  was  assured  by  the  yellow  glint  when  his 
wax  light  fell. 

Still  bending  on  one  knee,  and  with  a  hand  on 
the  ground,  he  began  to  consider  what  could  have 
become  of  flint  and  steel.     Was  it  possible  that 

2Z^ 


AURI  MOLES  PR.EGRANDIS       239 

he  had  left  them  outside  the  "  Ogof  "  when  he 
lighted  the  taper  ?  He  racked  his  brain.  He 
distinctly  recalled  the  kindling  of  the  wick.  He 
could  not  remember  having  replaced  the  flint, 
steel,  and  tinder  in  his  pouch.  It  might  have 
occurred  that  flint  or  steel  had  fallen  out  when  he 
stumbled,  or  even  when  he  leaped  the  chasm,  but 
not  that  tinder  as  well  should  have  gone.  He 
knew  that  whilst  engaged  in  kindling  the  taper 
he  had  placed  the  now  missing  articles  on  a  stone 
just  within  the  entrance.  There  they  might  be 
still.  He  must  have  forgotten  to  replace  them 
in  his  purse.  Forgotten  those  things  most  neces- 
sary to  him  in  the  mine !  Only  conceivable 
through  the  occupation  of  his  thoughts  over  the 
treasure,  inquest  of  which  he  was  venturing.  He 
had  found  the  treasure,  but  now  was  without  the 
means  of  mustering  it,  even  of  seeing  it. 

Again  he  groped  about  the  floor,  in  desperation, 
hoping  against  conviction  that  the  flint,  steel,  and 
tinder  might  be  lying  there.  His  hands  passed 
over  the  cold  damp  rock  ;  it  was  in  vain  ;  and 
weariness  at  length  compelled  him  to  desist. 
Now  only  did  the  whole  horror  of  his  situation 
lighten  on  him.  The  chasm  lay  between  him  and 
his  way   back.     He   might,  possibly  enough,  by 


240  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

feeling,  find  the  passage  by  which  he  had  entered  ; 
but  how  could  he  traverse  that  awful  abyss  ?  He 
was  buried  alive. 

He  sat  in  the  darkness  listening. 

He  heard  no  sound  whatever,  save  at  long  in- 
tervals a  drip  of  water. 

He  stared  into  the  blackness  of  night  that  sur- 
rounded him,  but  could  see  not  the  faintest  trace 
of  light.  And  yet — not  at  any  great  distance 
was  the  hall  into  which  a  pearly  ray  fell  from  an 
orifice  above  ;  but  between  him  and  the  spot  of 
light  lay  the  well. 

Were  it  not  better  to  essay  to  return,  and  risk 
the  headlong  fall  into  that  gulf,  than  to  sit  there 
in  darkness,  in  solitude,  till  death  by  starvation 
came  on  him,  and  hear  the  slow  ticking  of  the 
falling  drops  ? 

What  chance  of  rescue  had  he  ? 

True  that  he  had  sent  word  to  his  wife  to  meet 
him  at  the  Ogofau — the  caves,  in  the  plural,  not 
to  seek  for  him  in  the  one  Ogof,  in  the  singular, 
that  was  specially  dreaded  as  the  haunt  of  Gwen, 
and  the  place  where  slept  the  Five  Saints. 

Would  his  wife  think  of  seeking  him  therein  ? 
Could  she  possibly  venture  so  far  from  the  light  ? 
It  was  not  credible. 


AURI  MOLES  PRyEGRANDIS       241 

He  tried  to  rise,  but  his  limbs  were  stiff,  and 
he  shivered  as  with  cold. 

Cautiously,  with  extended  hands,  he  groped 
for  the  wall,  and  finally  reached  it.  Then,  pass- 
ing them  along,  he  felt  his  way  towards  the  open- 
ing to  the  passage.  But  as  to  his  direction,  of 
that  he  knew  nothing,  could  form  no  conjecture. 
While  searching  for  his  kindling  tools,  he  had 
turned  himself  about  and  lost  every  inkling  as  to 
the  course  by  which  he  had  entered. 

After  a  while  his  right  hand  no  longer  en- 
countered rock,  and  stepping  sideways,  he  held 
with  his  left  hand  to  the  wall  and  stretched  forth 
the  right,  but  felt  nothing.  Letting  go,  but  with 
reluctance,  he  moved  another  step  sideways  and 
now  touched  rock  again. 

He  had  found  the  passage,  and  he  took  a  few 
steps  down  it,  drawing  his  hand  along  the  side. 
He  put  forth  the  right  foot,  feeling  the  floor  lest 
he  should  come  unawares  on  the  chasm.  So  he 
crept  on,  but  whether  he  were  going  forward  in  a 
straight  line  or  was  describing  a  curve,  he  did  not 
know.  His  brain  was  in  a  whirl.  Then  he  struck 
his  head  against  a  prong  of  rock  that  descended 
from  above,  and  reeled  back  and  fell. 

For  a  while,  without  being  completely  stunned, 


242  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

he  lay  in  half  consciousness.     His  desperate  con- 
dition filled  him  with  horror. 

What  if  he  did  find  his  way  to  the  ledge  of  the 
well?  Could  he  leap  it  ?  If  he  made  the  at- 
tempt, he  did  not  know  in  which  direction  to 
spring ;  he  might  bound,  dash  himself  against  the 
rock,  and  go  reeling  down  into  the  gulf.  But 
even  to  make  such  a  leap  he  must  take  a  few 
strides  to  acquire  sufficient  impetus.  How  meas- 
ure his  strides  in  the  pitch  darkness?  How  be 
sure  that  he  did  not  leap  too  precipitately  and 
not  land  at  all,  but  go  down  whirling  into  the 
depths  ?  And  there  was  something  inexpressibly 
hideous  in  the  thought  of  lying  dead  below, 
sopping  in  water  at  the  bottom  of  that  ab3'ss — 
sopping  till  his  flesh  parted  from  the  bones,  away 
from  the  light,  his  fate  unknown  to  his  wife,  his 
carcass  there  to  lie  till  Doomsday. 

Partly  due  to  the  blow  he  had  received,  partly  to 
desperation,  his  mind  became  confused.  Strange 
thoughts  came  over  him.  He  seemed  to  acquire 
vision,  and  to  behold  the  Five  Saints  lying  in  a 
niche  before  him,  with  their  heads  on  a  long 
stone.  They  were  very  old,  and  their  faces 
covered  with  mildew.  Their  silver  beards  had 
grown  and  covered  them  like  blankets.     One  had 


AURI  MOLES  PR^GRANDIS       243 

his  hand  laid  on  the  ground,  and  the  fingers  were 
like  stag's-horn  lichen. 

Then  the  one  saint  raised  this  white  hand, 
passed  it  over  his  face,  opened  his  eyes,  and  sat 
up. 

"  Brothers,"  said  he,  in  a  faint  small  voice,  "let 
us  turn  our  pillow." 

Thereat  the  other  four  sat  up,  and  the  one  who 
had  roused  his  brethren  said  :  "  See — we  have 
worn  holes  in  the  stone  with  our  heads.  We  will 
turn  our  pillow." 

And  in  verity  there  were  five  cup-like  depres- 
sions in  the  stone.  Then  the  old  Saint  reversed 
the  stone,  and  at  once  all  four  laid  their  heads 
on  it  again  and  went  again  to  sleep.  The  fifth 
also  relaid  his  head  on  the  stone,  and  immediately 
his  eyes  closed. 

Then  it  was  to  Pabo  as  though  he  saw  a  white 
face  peeping  round  a  corner  of  rock ;  and  this 
was  followed  by  a  form — thin,  vaporous,  clad  in 
flowing  white  robes. 

"  Gwen  !  Gwen  !  "  he  cried,  starting  up.  "  You 
— you  know  a  way  forth  !  You  leave  in  thunder 
and  storm.  Let  me  hold  to  your  skirts,  and  draw 
me  from  this  pit  of  darkness  !  " 

But  with  his  cries  the   phantasm  had  vanished. 


244  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

His  eyes  were  staring  into  pitch  darkness,  in 
which  not  even  a  spectral  form  moved. 

And  still— he  heard  at  long-drawn  intervals  the 
drip,  drip  of  water. 

Aeain  he  sank  back  into  half-consciousness,  and 
once  more  his  troubled  brain  conjured  up  fantastic 

visions. 

He  thought  himself  once  again  in  the  cave  at 
Careg  Cennen,  and  that  the  beautiful  Nest  came 
to  him.  Somehow,  he  confused  her  with  Gwen. 
She  seemed  also  to  be  vaporous — all  but  her  face 
and  her  radiant  golden  hair.  What  eyes  she  had, 
and  how  they  flashed  and  glowed  as  she  spoke 
of  the  wrongs  done  to  her  country  and  to  her 
people ! 

He  thought  she  spoke  to  him,  and  said  :  "  Oh, 
Pabo,  Pabo,  I  have  trusted  in  thee  !  My  brother, 
he  is  raising  all  Cymraig  peoples.  Take  to  him 
the  treasure  of  the  old  Romans.  With  that  he  will 
buy  harness,  and  swords,  and  spears,  and  will 
call  over  and  enroll  levies  from  Ireland.  With 
gold  he  will  bribe,  and  get  admission  to  castles 
he  cannot  break  up.  With  gold  he  will  get  fleets 
to  sail  up  the  Severn  Sea  and  harass  the  enemy 
as  they  venture  along  the  levels  of  Morganwg. 
See,  see,  I  have  given  thee  the  bracelet  of  Maxen 


AURI  MOLES  TRyEGRANDIS       245 

the  Emperor !  It  is  a  solemn  trust.  Bear  it  to 
him  ;  let  it  not  be  lost  here  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth !  " 

And  again  he  started  with  a  cry  and  said  : 
"  Help,  help,  Princess  Nest  !  Me  thou  didst 
draw  out  of  the  dungeon.  Me  thou  didst  bring 
up  out  of  the  cave.     Deliver  me  now  !  " 

And  again  all  was  blackness,  and  there  was  no 
answer.  Still  continued  the  monotonous  drip. 
Then  Pabo  bit  his  tongue,  and  resolved  by  no 
means  to  suffer  himself  to  fall  away  into  these 
trances  again.  With  strong  resolution  he  fought 
with  phantom  figures  as  they  rose  before  his  eyes, 
with  drowsiness  as  it  crept  over  his  brain,  with 
whispers  and  mutterings  that  sounded  in  his 
ears. 

How  long  the  time  was  that  passed  he  knew 
not.  He  might  have  counted  the  drips  of  water, 
yet  knew  not  the  length  of  each  interval  between 
the  falling  of  the  drops. 

He  forcibly  turned  his  mind  to  Morwen,  and 
wondered  what  would  become  of  her.  Howel  he 
trusted  to  do  his  uttermost,  but  Howel  would 
have  been  hung  but  for  his  opportune  return. 

Then  his  mind  turned  to  the  prospects  of  down- 
trampled  Wales ;  to  the  chances  of  Griffith — to 


246  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

the  defection  and  treachery  of  the  King  of  North 
Wales ;  to  the  discouragement  that  had  followed 
the  abortive  attempt  of  Owen  ap  Cadogan.  But 
Owen  had  been  a  man  false  of  heart,  seeking  only 
his  selfish  ends ;  without  one  spark  of  loyalty  to 
his  nation.  Far  other  was  Grififith.  His  beauty, 
his  open  manner,  his  winning  address,  were 
matched  with  a  character  true,  brave,  and  sym- 
pathetic. In  him  the  people  had  a  leader  in 
whom  they  could  trust.  And  yet  what  would  be 
his  chances  against  the  overwhelming  power  of 
England  and  Normandy? 

Before  Pabo's  eyes,  as  they  closed  uncon- 
sciously, clouds  seemed  to  descend,  overspread 
and  darken  his  beautiful  land.  He  saw  again  and 
again  devastation  sweep  it.  He  saw  alien  nobles 
and  alien  prelates  fasten  on  it  and  suck  its  re- 
sources like  leeches.  There  passed  before  him, 
as  it  were,  wave  on  wave  of  darkness,  fire,  and 
blood.  And  then — suddenly  a  spark,  a  flame,  a 
blaze,  and  in  it  a  Welsh  prince  mounting  the  Eng- 
lish throne,  one  of  the  blood  of  Cunedda — the 
ancestor  of  the  Saint  of  Caio,  their  loved  Cynwyl. 
The  lions !  the  black  lions  of  Cambria  waving 
over  the  throne  of  England  ! 

Pabo  started  with  a  thrill  of  triumph,  but  it  was 


AURI  MOLES  PR^GRANDIS      247 

to  hear  a  shriek,  piercing,  harsh,  horrible,  ring 
through  the  vault,  followed  by  crash,  crash,  again 
a  dull  thud — and  a  splash. 

Thereon  all  was  silent. 

Dazed  in  mind,  unaware  whether  he  were 
dreaming  still,  or  whether  what  he  had  heard 
were  real,  with  every  nerve  quivering,  with  his 
blood  fluttering  in  his  temples,  at  his  heart,  he 
shut  his  eyes,  clutched  the  ground,  and  held  his 
breath. 

And  then — next  moment  a  flash — and  a  cry — 
"  Pabo ! " 

He  opened  his  eyes — but  saw  nothing,  only 
light.  But  he  felt  arms  about  him,  felt  his  head 
drawn  to  a  soft  and  throbbing  bosom,  felt  warm 
tears  dropping  on  his  face. 

"  Pabo  !  oh,  my  Pabo  !  it  was  not  you  !  " 

By  degrees  his  faculties  returned. 

Then  he  saw  before  him  Howel  bearing  a  horn 
lantern  ;  but  he  felt  he  could  not  see  her  who 
had  folded  him  in  her  arms  and  was  sobbing  over 
him. 

"  We  have  found  you,"  said  Howel.  "  But  for 
her  I  would  not  have  dared  to  enter.  Yet  she 
would  have  gone  alone.  She  saw  thy  flint  and 
steel  on  a  stone  at  the  entrance.     She  was  full  of 


248  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

fear,  and  left  me  no  rest  till  I  agreed  to  ac- 
company her.  Tell  me,  what  was  that  fearful 
cry  ?  " 

"  I  know  not.     The  place  is  full  of  phantoms." 

"  Was  there  none  with  thee  ?  " 

"  None.     Were  ye  alone  ?  " 

"  We  were  alone." 

"  Then  it  was  the  cry  of  Gwen,  or  of  some  evil 
spirit.    And  oh  !  Howel.    Atiri moles prcegrandisT 

"  I  understand  not." 

"  Come  and  see." 

Pabo  started  to  his  feet  now,  disengaging  him- 
self gently  from  the  arms  of  his  wife  ;  but  not 
relaxing  the  hold  of  her  hand  which  he  clasped. 

A  few  steps  were  retraced  to  the  hall,  and 
there  lay  the  fallen  wax  taper,  and  there,  piled 
up,  were  ingots  of  gold. 

"  See  !  "  exclaimed  Pabo.  "  For  Griffith  ap 
Rhys.  With  this — at  last  something  may  be 
done." 

Howel  passed  his  lantern  over  it  meditatively. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  it  is  just  what  has  been  the 
one  thing  that  has  failed  us  hitherto." 

"  Not  the  only  thing  ;  the  other — a  true  man." 

"  Rieht.  We  have  here  the  means  of  success, 
and  in  Griffith — the  true  leader." 


AURI  MOLES  PR^GRANDIS       249 

"Come  !  "  said  Pabo.  "  I  must  to  the  light.  I 
am  weary  of  darkness." 

He  rekindled  his  wax  taper  at  Howel's  light, 
and  all  proceeded  on  their  way  ;  and  before  many 
minutes  had  elapsed  were  in  the  domed  chamber, 
traversed  from  above  by  a  tiny  ray  of  moonlight. 

Pabo  stood  still.     His  head  spun. 

"  But  the  well !  the  well !  " 

His  wife  and  Howel  looked  at  him  with  sur- 
prise. 

"  How  came  you  to  me  ?  How  did  you  pass 
the  chasm  ?  " 

"  There  was  no  chasm.  We  have  returned  as 
we  went," 

Pabo  clasped  his  head. 

"  There  is  a  well.     I  leaped  it.     I  feared  to  fall 


into  it." 


Then  all  at  once,  clear  before  him  stood  the 
plan  as  drawn  by  the  hermit.  From  the  chamber 
where  light  was  there  were  two  passages  leading 
to  the  treasure — one  had  it  in  the  well — that  was 
the  turn  to  the  right,  and  the  direction  had  been 
to  go  to  the  left.  He  who  had  seen  the  map  had 
gone  wrong.  They  who  had  never  seen  it  went 
right.  But,  we  may  ask,  what  was  that  cry? 
From  whom  did  it  issue? 


250  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

All  that  can  be  said  is  this :  Goronvvy,  after 
having  given  the  message,  watched  curiously,  and 
saw  Morwen  go  to  the  house  of  Howel.  Had  he 
not  been  inquisitive  to  know  the  meaning  of  the 
meeting  in  Ogofau,  he  would  have  betrayed  her 
at  once  to  Rogier.  As  it  was,  he  resolved  to 
follow  and  observe,  unseen. 

He  had  done  so,  and  at  a  distance,  after  Howel 
and  Morwen,  he  had  entered  the  mine. 

More  cannot  be  said. 

Goronwy  was  never  seen  again. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

I'HE  PYLGAIN  OF   DYFED 

Like  an  explosion  of  fire-damp  in  a  coal-mine 
— sudden,  far-reaching,  deadly — so  was  the  con- 
vulsion in  South  Wales. 

All  was  quiet  to-day.  On  the  morrow  the 
whole  land  from  the  Bay  of  Cardigan  to  Mor- 
ganwg,  was  in  flames.  The  rising  had  been  pre- 
pared for  with  the  utmost  caution. 

The  last  to  anticipate  it  were  the  soldiery  under 
Rogier,  who  were  quartered  in  Caio.  Notwith- 
standing imperative  orders  from  the  bishop  at 
Llawhaden  to  return  to  him,  they  had  remained 
where  they  were,  and  had  continued  to  conduct 
themselves  in  the  same  lawless  manner  as  before. 
They  scoffed  at  the  tameness  with  which  their 
insolence  was  endured. 

"  They  are  Cynwyl  conies — des  lapins  !  "  they 
said.  "  Say  '  Whist ! '  and  nothing  more  is  seen 
of  them  than  their  white  tails  as  they  scuttle  to 

their  burrows." 

251 


2  52  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

For  centuries  this  had  been  an  oasis  of  peace, 
unlapped  by  the  waves  of  war.  The  very  faculty 
of  resistance  was  taken  out  of  these  men,  who 
could  handle  a  plow  or  brandish  a  shepherd's 
crook,  but  were  frightened  at  the  chime  of  a 
bowstring  and  the  flash  of  a  pike. 

Yet,  secretly,  arms  were  being  brought  into  the 
valley,  and  were  distributed  from  farm  to  farm 
and  from  cot  to  cot ;  and  the  men  whose  wives 
and  daughters  had  been  dishonored,  whose  sav- 
ings had  been  carried  off,  who  had  themselves 
been  beaten  and  insulted,  whose  relatives  had 
been  hung  as  felons,  were  gripping  the  swords  and 
handling  the  lances — eager  for  the  signal  that 
should  set  them  free  to  fall  on  their  tormentors. 
And  that  signal  came  at  last. 

On  Christmas  Eve,  from  the  top  of  Pen-y-ddi- 
nas  shot  up  a  tongue  of  flame.  At  once  from 
every  mountain-side  answered  flashes  of  fire. 
There  was  light  before  every  house,  however 
small.  The  great  basin  of  Caio  was  like  a  re- 
versed dome  of  heaven  studded  with  stars. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ? "  asked 
Rogier,  issuing  from  the  habitation  he  had 
appropriated  to  himself,  and  looking  round  in 
amazement. 


THE  PYLGAIN  OF  DYFED         253 

"  It    is    the    pylgain,"    replied    his    man,   Pont 
d'Arche,  who  knew  something  of  Welsh, 

"Pylgain!     What  is  that?" 

"  The  coming  in  of  Christmas.  They  salute  it 
with  lights  and  carols  and  prayers  and  dances." 

"  Methinks  I  can  hear  sounds." 

"  Aye !  they  are  coming  to  church." 

"  With  torches — there  are  many." 

"  They  all  come." 

Then  a  man  came  rushing  up  the  hill ;  he  was 
breathless.  On  reaching  where  stood  Rogier,  he 
gasped  :  "  They  come — a  thousand  men  and  all 
armed." 

"  It  is  a  river  of  fire." 

Along  the  road  could  be  seen  a  waving  line  of 
light,  and  from  all  sides,  down  the  mountains  ran 
cascades  of  light  as  well. 

"  There  is  not  a  man  is  not  armed,  and  the 
women  each  bear  a  torch  ;  they  come  with  them 
— to  see  revenge  done  on  us." 

Then  up  came  Cadell.     He  was  trembling. 

"  Rogier,"  he  said,  "this  is  no  pylgain  for  us — 
the  whole  country  is  stirring.  The  whole  people 
is  under  arms,  and  swearing  to  have  our  blood." 

"  We  will  show  these  conies  of  Cynwyl  that  we 
are  not  afraid  of  them." 


254  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

"  They  are  no  conies  now,  but  lions.  Can  you 
stand  against  a  thousand  men  ?  And — this  is  not 
all,  I  warrant.  The  whole  of  the  Towy  Valley,  and 
that  of  the  Teify,  all  Dyfed,  maybe  all  Wales,  is 
up  to-night.     Can  you  make  your  way  through  ?  " 

Rogier  uttered  a  curse. 

"  By  the  paunch  of  the  Bastard.  I  relish  not 
running  before   those  conies." 

"Then  tarry — and  they  will  hang  you  beside 
Cynwyl's  bell,  where  you  slung  their  kinsmen." 

Rogier's  face  became  mottled  with  mingled 
rage  and  fear. 

Meanwhile  his  men  had  rallied  around  them, 
running  from  the  several  houses  they  were  lodg- 
ing in  ;  a  panic  had  seized  them.  Some,  without 
awaiting  orders,  were  saddling  their  horses. 

"  Hark  !  "  shouted  Rogier.     "  What  is  that  ?  " 

The  river  of  light  had  become  a  river  of  song. 
The  thunder  of  the  voices  of  men  and  the  clear 
tones  of  the  women  combined.  And  from  every  rill 
of  light  that  descended  from  the  heights  to  swell 
the  advancing  current,  came  the  strain  as  well. 

"  They  have  come  caroling,"  said  Rogier  dis- 
dainfully. 

"  Carol,  call  you  this  ?  "  exclaimed  Cadell.  "  It 
is  the  war-song  of  the  sons  of   David.     '  Let  God 


THE  PYLGAIN  OF  DYFED         255 

arise,  and  let  His  enemies  be  scattered  :  let  them 
also  that  hate  Him,  flee  before  Him.  Like  as  the 
smoke  vanisheth,  so  shalt  Thou  drive  them  away  : 
and  like  as  wax  melteth  at  the  fire,  so  let  the  un- 
godly perish 

"  I  will  hear  no  more,"  said  Rogler.  "  Mount  ! 
And  Heaven  grant  us  a  day  when  we  may  revenge 
this." 

"  I  will  go  too,"  said  Cadell.  "  Here  I  dare  not 
remain." 

Before  the  advancing  river  of  men  arrived  at 
the  crossing  of  the  Annell,  the  entire  band  of  the 
Normans  had  fled — not  one  was  left. 

Then  up  the  ascent  came  the  procession. 

First  went  the  staff  of  Cynwyl,  not  now  in  its 
gold  and  gem-encrusted  shrine,  but  removed  from 
it — a  plain,  rough,  ashen  stick,  borne  aloft  by 
Morgan  ap  Seyssult,  its  hereditary  guardian,  and 
behind  him  came  Meredith,  with  his  two  attend- 
ant bards,  all  with  their  harps,  striking  them  as 
the  multitude  intoned  the  battle-song  that  for 
five  hundred  years  had  not  sounded  within  the 
sanctuary  of  David.  The  women  bore  torches 
aloft,  the  men  marched  four  in  breast,  all  armed 
and  with  stern  faces,  and  Pabo  was  there — and 
led  them. 


256  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

The  Archpriest,  on  reaching  the  church, 
mounted  a  block  of  stone,  and  dismissed  the  wo- 
men. Let  them  return  to  their  homes.  A  panic 
had  fallen  on  those  who  had  molested  them,  and 
they  had  fled.  The  work  was  but  begun,  and 
the  men  alone  could  carry  it  on  to  the  end. 

Rogierand  his  men  did  not  draw  rein  till  they 
had  reached  the  Ystrad  Towy,  the  broad  valley 
through  which  flowed  the  drainage  of  the  Breck- 
nock Mountains.  And  there  they  saw  that  on 
all  sides  beacons  were  kindled ;  in  every  hamlet 
resounded  the  noise  of  arms.  At  Llandeilo  they 
threw  themselves  into  Dynevor,  which  had  but  a 
slender  garrison.  But  there  they  would  not  stay  ; 
and,  avoiding  such  places  as  were  centers  of  gath- 
ering to  the  roused  natives,  they  made  for  Car- 
marthen. 

The  castle  there  was  deemed  impregnable 
It  was  held  mainly  by  Welsh  mercenaries  in  the 
service  of  Gerald  of  Windsor.  Rogier  mistrusted 
them  ;  he  would  not  remain  there,  for  he  heard 
that  Griffith  ap  Rhys,  at  the  head  of  large  bodies 
of  insurgents,  was  marching  upon  Carmarthen. 

Next  day  the  brother  of  the  bishop  was  again 
on  the  move  with  his  men  by  daybreak,  and  passed 
into  the  Cleddau  Valley,  making  for  Llawhaden. 


THE  PYLGAIN  OF  DYFED         257 

In  the  meantime  the  men  of  Caio  were  on  the 
march.  None  were  left  behind  save  the  very  old 
and  the  very  young  and  the  women. 

They  marched  four  abreast,  with  the  stafT  of 
Cynwyl  borne  before  them.  Now  the  vanguard 
thundered  the  battle-song  of  David,  "  Cyfoded 
Duw,  gwasgarerei  elynion:  affoed  ei  gaseion  o'i 
flaen  ef." 

They  sang,  then  ceased,  and  the  rear-guard  took 
up  the  chant :  "  When  thou  wentest  forth  before 
the  people ;  when  thou  wentest  through  the 
wilderness,  the  earth  shook  and  the  heavens 
dropped."  They  sang  on  and  ceased.  Thereupon 
again  the  vanguard  took  up  the  strain,  "  Kings 
with  their  armies  did  flee,  and  were  discom- 
fited ;    and   they    of   the   household  divided    the 

•1  »> 
spoil. 

Thus  chanting  alternately,  they  marched  through 

the  passage  among  the  mountains  threaded  by  the 

Sarn  Helen,  and  before    the    people  went  Pabo, 

wearing   the    bracelet    of    Maximus,  the    Roman 

Emperor,  who  took  to  wife  that  Helen    who  had 

made  the  road,  and  who  was  of  the  royal  British 

race  of  Cunedda. 

So  they  marched  on — following  the  same  course 

as  that  by  which  the  Norman  cavalcade  had  pre- 
17 


258  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

ceded  them.  And  this  was  the  Pylgain  in  Dyfed 
in  the  year  1115. 

The  host  came  out  between  the  portals  of  the 
hills  at  Llanwrda,  and  turned  about  and  descended 
the  Ystrad  Towy,  by  the  right  bank  of  the  river ; 
and  the  daybreak  of  Christmas  saw  them  opposite 
Llangadock.  The  gray  light  spread  from  behind 
the  mighty  ridge  of  Trichrug,  and  revealed  the 
great  fortified,  lonely  camp  of  Carn  Goch  tower- 
ing up,  with  its  mighty  walls  of  stone  and  the 
huge  cairn  that  occupied  the  highest  point  within 
the  enclosure. 

They  halted  for  a  while,  but  for  a  while  only, 
and  then  thrust  along  in  the  same  order,  and  with 
the  same  resolution,  intoning  the  same  chant  on 
their  way  to  Llandeilo.  There  they  tarried  for  the 
night,  and  every  house  was  opened  to  them,  and  on 
every  hearth  there  was  a  girdle-cake  for  them. 

On  the  morrow  the  whole  body  was  again  on 
the  march.  Meanwhile,  the  garrison  had  fled 
from  Dynevor  to  Careg  Cennen,  and  the  men  of 
Ystrad  Towy  were  camped  against  that  fortress, 
from  which,  on  the  news  of  the  revolt,  Gerald 
had  escaped  to  Carmarthen. 

By  the  time  the  men  of  Caio  were  within  sight 
of  this  latter  place,  it  was  in  flames. 


THE  PYLGAIN  OF  DYFED         259 

And  tidings  came  from  Cardigan.  The  people 
there  had  with  one  acclaim  declared  that  they 
would  have  Griffith  as  their  prince,  and  were 
besieging  Strongbow's  castle  of  Blaen-Porth. 

But  the  men  of  Caio  did  not  tarry  at  Carmar- 
then to  assist  in  the  taking  of  the  castle.  Only 
there  did  Pabo  surrender  the  bracelet  of  Maxen 
to  the  Prince,  with  the  message  from  his  sister. 

They  pushed  on  their  way. 

Whither  were  they  bound  ?  Slowly,  steadily, 
resolvedly  on  the  track  of  those  men  who  had 
outraced  them  to  their  place  of  retreat  and  de- 
fense, the  bishop's  Castle  of  Llawhaden. 

Now  when  Bernard  heard  that  all  Caio  was  on 
the  march,  and  came  on  unswervingly  towards 
where  he  was  behind  strong  walls  and  defended 
by  mighty  towers,  then  his  heart  failed  him.  He 
bade  Rogierhold  out,  but  for  himself  he  mounted 
his  mule,  rode  to  Tenby  Castle  ;  nor  rested  there, 
but  took  ship  and  crossed  the  mouth  of  the 
Severn  estuary  to  Bristol,  whence  he  hasted  to 
London,  to  lay  the  tidings  before  the  King.  And 
with  him  went  Cadell,  the  Chaplain. 

It  was  evening  when  the  host  of  Caio  reached 
Llawhaden,  and  Rogier  from  the  walls  heard  the 
chant  of  the  war-psalm.     "  God  shall  wound  the 


26o  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

head  of  his  enemies :  and  the  hairy  scalp  of  such 
a  one  as  goeth  on  still  in  his  wickedness  .  .  . 
that  thy  foot  may  be  dipped  in  the  blood  of  thine 
enemies  :  and  that  the  tongue  of  thy  dogs  may 
be  red  through  the  same." 

He  shuddered — a  premonition  of  evil, 

Pabo  would  have  dissuaded  his  men  from  an 
immediate  assault ;  but  they  were  not  weary, 
they  were  eager  for  the  fray.  They  had  cut  down 
and  were  bearing  fagots  of  wood,  and  carried 
huge  bundles  of  fern.  Some  fagots  went  into 
the  moat,  others  were  heaped  against  the  gates. 
The  episcopal  barns  were  broken  into,  and  all  the 
straw  brought  forth. 

Then  flame  was  applied,  and  the  draught 
carried  the  fire  with  a  roar  within. 

By  break  of  day  Llawhaden  Castle  was  in 
the  hands  of  the  men  of  Caio.  They  chased  its 
garrison  from  every  wall  of  defense ;  they  were 
asked  for,  they  gave  no  quarter.  Those  who  had 
so  long  tyrannized  over  them  lay  in  the  galleries, 
slain  with  the  sword,  or  thrust  through  with 
spears.  Only  Rogier,  hung  by  the  neck,  dangled 
from  a  beam  thrust  through  an  upper  window. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE     WHITE     SHIP 

The  rebellion  extended,  castle  after  castle  fell ; 
those  of  the  Normans  who  remained  maintained 
themselves  within  fortresses,  like  Pembroke  and 
Aberystwyth,  that  could  receive  provisions  from 
the  sea.  Powys  was  seething — a  thrill  of  excite- 
ment had  run  through  Gwynedd,  and  the  aged 
King  there  quaked  lest  his  people  should  rise, 
dethrone  him,  and  call  on  Griffith  to  reign  over 
them,  and  combine  north  and  south  in  one  against 
the  invader. 

It  was  in  the  favor  of  the  Welsh  that  King 
Henry  was  out  of  the  country.  He  was  warring 
against  the  French  King  in  Normandy,  and  the 
malcontents  in  the  duchy. 

In  order   to  punish    the  Welsh,  he    had    sent 

Owen  ap  Cadogan  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  men 

into  the  country.     Owen  was  furious  because  the 

people  of  Cardigan  had  greeted  Griffith  as  their 

261 


262  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

prince.  Cardigan  was  the  kingdom  to  which 
Owen  laid  claim,  but  he  had  done  nothing  to 
maintain  this  claim  against  Strongbow.  Yet  no 
sooner  did  he  hear  that  a  cousin,  Griffith  ap  Rhys, 
had  been  welcomed  there  as  its  deliverer  and 
prince,  than  in  uncontrolled  rage  he  gathered  a 
troop  of  ruffians,  and  aided  by  the  men  afforded 
him  by  King  Henry,  he  invaded  Dyfed,  and  took 
an  oath  that  he  w^ould  massacre  every  man, 
woman,  and  child  he  came  across  till  he  had  cut 
his  way,  and  left  a  track  of  blood  from  the  Usk 
to  the  Atlantic. 

Thus  a  Welsh  prince,  with  a  mixed  host  of 
Welshmen  and  English,  had  come  among  the 
mountains  that  had  cradled  him  to  exterminate 
those  of  his  own  blood  and  tongue. 

The  horrors  he  committed,  his  remorseless 
savagery,  sent  men  and  women  flying  before  him 
to  the  wastes  and  heaths  of  the  Brecknock  moun- 
tains, and  they  carried  with  them  the  infirm  and 
feeble,  knowing  well  that  Owen  would  spare 
neither  the  gray  head  nor  the  infant. 

Enraged  at  not  finding  more  food  for  his  sword, 
he  marked  his  onward  course  with  flame,  destroy- 
ing farms  and  homesteads. 

An   appointment    was  made    for  the   host  of 


THE  WHITE  SHIP  263 

Owen,  another  led  by  Robert  Consul,  and  the 
disciplined  foreigners  under  Gerald  of  Windsor, 
who  had  been  reinforced  from  the  sea — to  con- 
verge and  unite  in  one  great  army  for  the  chastise- 
ment of  South  Wales. 

It  so  happened,  while  thus  marching,  that 
Owen,  with  about  a  hundred  men,  detached  him- 
self from  the  main  body  to  fall  on  and  butcher  a 
party  of  fugitives  on  their  way  to  the  fastnesses 
of  the  mountains.  Returning  with  their  plunder 
and  their  blades  dripping  with  blood,  Owen  and 
his  ruffians  came  near  to  where  Gerald  of  Windsor 
was  on  his  way. 

Then  up  flamed  the  rage  of  the  baron,  and  he 
resolved  on  using  the  opportunity  to  discharge  a 
personal  debt  of  honor.  It  was  this  Owen  who 
had  penetrated  as  a  friend  into  Pembroke,  and 
had  carried  off  Gerald's  wife.  Nest. 

At  once  he  turned  and  fell  on  Owen  and 
his  murderous  band,  cut  them  to  pieces,  and 
slew  the  man  against  whom  he  bore  so  bitter  a 
grudge. 

Henry  had  returned  from  Normandy  ;  he  was 
triumphant.  Peace  had  been  declared,  and  his 
son  William  had  been  invested  with  the  duchy. 
The  King  hastened  to   Westminster  as   soon  as 


264  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

he  had  landed,  expecting  his  sons,  William  and 
Richard,  and  his  daughter,  Matilda,  to  follow  him 
in  a  day  or  two.  As  he  was  about  to  embark  at 
Barfleur,  there  had  come  to  him  one  Thomas  Fitz- 
Stephen,  the  son  of  the  man  who  had  conveyed 
the  Conqueror  to  England,  At  his  petition, 
Henry  accorded  him  the  favor  of  convoying  the 
princes  and  the  princess  across  the  Channel  in  his 
splendid  new  vessel,  the  White  Ship. 

The  crew,  greatly  elated  at  this  honor,  after 
having  received  their  passengers  on  board,  begged 
Prince  William  that  he  would  order  drink  to  be 
supplied  them,  and  this  he  imprudently  granted. 
A  revel  ensued,  which  was  kept  up  even  after  the 
King  and  his  fleet  had  put  to  sea.  Owing  to 
this,  Henry  arrived  in  England  without  the  White 
Ship  remaining  in  sight  and  forming  a  portion  of 
the  fleet.  He  was  not,  however,  in  any  concern, 
as  the  sea  was  calm  and  there  was  little  wind,  and 
he  made  his  way  at  once  to  Windsor. 

Almost  immediately  on  his  arrival.  Nest  ap- 
peared before  him. 

The  King  was  in  a  bad  humor.  He  was  vexed 
at  his  children  not  having  arrived.  He  was  very 
angry  because  his  porcupine  was  dead.  The  serv- 
ant whose  duty  it  was  to  attend  to  the  natural 


THE  WHITE  SHIP  265 

rarities  Henry  collected,  assured  him  that  this 
death  was  due  to  the  porcupine's  licking  himself 
like  a  cat,  to  keep  himself  clean,  and  he  had  ac- 
cidentally swallowed  one  of  his  own  quills,  which 
had  transfixed  his  heart. 

"  And,  Sire,"  said  the  man  ;  "  when  I  saw  him 
licking  himself,  I  blessed  Heaven,  as  I  thought  it 
to  be  a  token  of  fair  weather  while  your  Majesty 
was  crossing  the  sea." 

"  You  should  not  have  suffered  him  to  lick 
himself,"  said  the  King  angrily. 

"  Sire,  I  believed  he  was  cleaning  his  spines, 
that  he  might  present  his  best  appearance  to  your 
Majesty." 

"  Take  him  away  !  "  ordered  Henry,  addressing 
a  man-at-arms,  "  and  say  he  is  to  receive  fifty 
stripes  at  the  pillory  for  his  negligence.  Well, 
what  are  you  here  for,  Nest  ?  This  is  a  cursed 
bad  augury  on  my  return  to  find  my  porcupine 
dead  and  you  here  with  a  complaint." 

"  Sire,"  said  the  Princess,  "  at  one  time  my 
presence  was  not  of  ill-augury  to  you." 

"  Times  have  changed.  I  am  driven  mad  with 
rebellion.  First  in  Normandy,  then  in  Wales. 
One  has  no  peace.  But  I  have  beaten  down  all 
opposition  in  the  duchy,  and  now  I  shall  turn  my 


266  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

attention  to  your  country.  What  do  you  want  ? 
To  threaten  and  scold,  as  once  before  ?  " 

"  No— only  to  entreat." 

"  Oh,  you  women  !  you  plead,  and  if  you  do 
not  get  what  you  ask,  then  you  menace.  What 
one  of  all  your  threats  and  denunciations  has 
come  true  ?     What  single  one  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  Sovereign,"  said  Nest,  "  hearken  to 
me  but  this  once.  Now  there  is  an  occasion  such 
as  may  not  present  itself  again  of  pacifying  Wales 
and  making  my  dear  people  honor  you  and  sub- 
mit to  your  scepter." 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  Owen  ap  Cadogan  is  dead.  He  entered  his 
native  land  slaying  and  laying  waste,  so  that 
every  Cymric  heart  trembled  before  him — some 
with  fear,  others  with  resentment.  And  now — 
he  is  dead,  Gerald  my  husband,  who  had  some 
wrong  to  redress " 

Henry  burst  into  derisive  laughter. 

"  Gerald  killed  him  ;  and  now  the  Welsh  people 
hail  him  as  having  delivered  them  from  their 
worst  foe." 

"  Then  let  them  submit." 

"  But,  Sire  and  King,  their  wrongs  are  intoler- 
able.    Oh,  let  there  be  some  holding  of  the  hand. 


THE  WHITE  SHIP  267 

Lay  not  on  them  more  burdens  ;  meddle  not 
further  with  their  concerns.  I  speak  to  you  now, 
not  for  the  princes,  but  for  the  people." 

"  It  is  well  that  you  speak  not  for  the 
princes.  The  worst  of  all,  a  rebellious  dragon, 
is  your  brother  Griffith.  Him  I  shall  not 
spare." 

"  I  speak  for  the  people.  Sire,  there  is  one 
truth  they  have  taken  to  heart  now  by  the  fall  of 
Owen.  It  is  that  given  in  Scripture :  Put  not 
your  trust  in  princes !  Those  we  have  known 
have  failed ;  and  fail  they  all  will,  because  they 
seek  their  own  glory,  and  not  the  welfare  of  the 
people.  Our  Cymri  know  this  now.  Griffith  of 
Gwynedd  and  Owen  of  Cardigan  have  taught 
them  that.  Therefore,  they  are  ready  to  bow 
under  the  scepter  of  England,  if  that  scepter,  in 
place  of  being  used  to  stir  up  one  prince  against 
another,  be  laid  on  all  to  keep  them  in  tranquil- 
lity. What  my  people  seek  is  peace,  protection, 
justice.  Sire,  you  are  mistaken  if  you  believe 
that  the  Welsh  people  rise  against  the  overlord- 
ship  of  your  Crown.  They  rise  because  they  can 
obtain  no  peace,  no  justice  from  the  Norman  ad- 
venturers sent  among  them,  and  no  protection 
against  their  best  lands  being  taken  from  them 


268  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

and  given  to  Flemings.  Sire,  trust  the  people. 
Be  just  and  generous  to  them.  Protect  them 
from  those  who  would  eat  them  up.  All  they 
rise  for,  fight  for — are  the  eternal  principles  of 
justice  as  between  man  and  man.  Your  men 
snatch  from  them  their  lands ;  their  homes  they 
are  expelled  from  ;  even  their  churches  are  taken 
from  them." 

*'  Ah,  ha,  Nest !  I  have  the  sanction  of  Heaven 
there.  Did  not  your  British  Church  resist  Augus- 
tine ?  Does  it  not  now  oppose  our  See  of  Can- 
terbury ?  And  as  Heaven  blesses  the  right  and 
punishes  the  wrong,  so  has  it  marvelously  inter- 
posed to  silence  evil  tongues.  When  my  Bernard 
was  resisted,  fire  fell  from  heaven  and  consumed 
those  who  opposed  him,  in  the  sight  of  all  men. 
I  believe  a  hundred  men  were  suddenly  and 
instantaneously  burnt." 

"  You  heard  that  from  Bernard." 

"  It  has  been  published  throughout  England. 
I  have  spoken  of  it  myself  to  the  successor  of  the 
Apostles,  to  Pope  Callixtus,  at  Rheims,  and  he 
was  mightily  gratified,  for,  said  he,  I  ever  held 
that  British  Church  to  be  tainted  with  heresy. 
And  he  reminded  me  that  when  the  British  bish- 
ops opposed  Augustine,  they  were  massacred  at 


THE  WHITE  SHIP  269 

Bangor.     Which  was  very  satisfactory.     So  now 
with  my  Bernard " 

"  Bernard  !  "  exclaimed  Nest,  boldly  interrupt- 
ing the  King,  "Bernard  is  an  arch  liar!  Sire! 
a  priest  named  Pabo  struck  the  bishop  in  the 
mouth,  and  knocked  out  one  or  two  of  his  teeth." 

"  I  noticed  this  and  rallied  him  on  his  whistling 
talk.     But  he  said  nought  of  the  blow." 

"  It  was  so.  And  he  pretends  that  Pabo  was 
smitten  by  lightning  for  having  thus  struck  him. 
But,  Sire,  I  have  seen  this  priest  since  the  alleged 
miracle  ;  his  hair  is  unsinged.  He  has  a  hearty 
appetite,  and  good  teeth — not  one  struck  out  by 
lig-htning — wherewith  to  consume  his  food.  The 
smell  of  fire  has  not  passed  upon  him." 

The  King  broke  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 

"That  is  Bernard!  Bernard  to  the  life!  A 
rogue  in  business.  He  cheated  my  Queen,  and 
now  tries  to  cheat  me  with  a  lie,  and  sets  up  as 
the  favored  of  Heaven.     You  are  sure  of  it  ?'' 

"  Quite  sure  ;  Bernard  endeavored  to  huddle 
the  man  out  of  the  way  lest  the  lie  should  be 
found  out." 

"  Famous  !  "  The  King  had  recovered  his  good- 
humor.  "  And  to  see  the  solemnity  and  convic- 
tion of  the  Holy  Father  when  he  heard  the  story." 


2/0  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

Again  he  exploded  into  laughter.  "  I  must  go  tell 
the  Queen.     It  is  fun,  it  will  put  her  in  a  passion." 

"  And,  Sire  !  about  my  people — my  poor  Welsh 
people?  " 

"  I  will  see  to  it.  I  will  consider — what  did  I 
hear  ?  You  have  brought  your  young  child  with 
you  : 

"■  Yes,  Sire,  he  is  without." 

"  Let  me  see  him — has  he  your  beauty  or 
Gerald's  ugliness  ?  " 

"Your  Majesty  shall  judge." 

Nest  went  towards  the  door,  but  turned.  "  Oh, 
Sire,  forget  not  my  entreaty  for  my  people." 

"  Away — fetch  the  boy.     I  will  think  on  it." 

Nest  left  the  room. 

In  the  ante-chamber  all  present  were  in  obvious 
consternation,  pale,  and  dejected. 

She  had  left  her  little  son  with  a  servant,  and 
she  crossed  the  chamber. 

Then  the  Chancellor,  who  was  present,  came  to 
her,  drew  her  into  the  embrasure  of  a  window, 
and  spoke  to  her  in  awestruck  tones.  At  his 
words  her  cheek  blanched. 

"  None  dare  inform  him,"  said  the  Chancellor. 
"  We  have  instructed  the  child.  Suffer  him  to 
enter  alone  and  tell  the  tale." 


THE  WHITE  SHIP  271 

For  a  moment  Nest  could  not  speak  ;  some- 
thing rose  in  her  throat.  She  signed  to  the  boy 
to  come  to  her.     "  Do  you  know  what  to  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mother  ;  that  the  Whiie  Ship " 

"  Cast  yourself  at  the  King's  feet,  tell  him  all ; 
and  when  you  have  said  the  last  words,  '  The 
princes,  thy  sons,  be  dead  ;  thy  daughter  also,  she 
likewise  is  dead  ' — then  pause  and  say  in  a  loud 
voice,  '  Remember  Wales  !  '  " 

The  child  was  dismissed.  He  passed  behind 
a  curtain,  then  through  the  door  into  the  royal 
presence. 

All  without  stood  hushed,  trembling  with  emo- 
tion, hardly  breathing,  none  looking  on  another. 

Then,  in  the  stillness,  came  a  loud  and  piercing 
cry ;  a  cry  that  cut  to  the  hearts  of  such  as  heard 
it  like  a  stiletto. 

In  another  moment  Hery  staggered  forth, 
blanched,  and  as  one  drunk,  with  hands  extended 
and  lifted  before  his  face,  and  in  a  harsh  voice, 
like  a  madman's  shriek,  he  cried  :  "  It  has  come. 
The  judgment  of  God  !  I  am  a  dry  and  a  branch- 
less tree,  blasted  in  the  midst  of  life — blasted  in 
the  hour  of  victory."  Then  he  reeled  to  a  table, 
threw  himself  on  his  knees,  laid  his  head  on  his 
hands,  and  burst  into  tears. 


272  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

None  moved.  None  ventured  near  him.  The 
Bishop  of  London  was  there — but  he  felt  that  no 
words  of  his  were  of  avail  now. 

So  they  stood  hardly  breathing,  watching  the 
stricken  man,  who  quivered  in  the  agony  of  his 
bereavement. 

Presently  he  lifted  his  face— so  altered  as  to  be 
hardly  recognizable,  livid  as  that  of  a  corpse,  and 
running  down  with  tears.  He  turned  towards 
Nest  and  said—"  Go,  woman,  go— it  shall  be  as 
thou  hast  desired.     I  am  judged." 

What  had  occurred  needs  but  a  few  words  of 
explanation. 

When  the  White  Ship  started  the  captain  as- 
sured Prince  William  that  such  was  her  speed 
that  she  would  overtake  the  King's  ship,  and  even 
pass  it  and  leave  behind  the  royal  squadron.  The 
signal  was  given,  and  the  White  Ship  left  the 
harbor,  impelled  to  her  utmost  speed  by  fifty  ex- 
cited rowers  ;  but  she  had  not  proceeded  far  be- 
fore she  was  driven  violently  against  a  reef,  which 
stove  in  two  planks  of  her  starboard  bow.  Prince 
William  was  put  into  the  boat,  and  was  already 
on  his  way  towards  the  land  when,  hearing  the 
cries  of  his  sister  from  the  sinking  vessel,  he 
ordered  his  rowers  to  put  back  and  save  her.    He 


THE  WHITE  SHIP  273 

was  obeyed  ;  but  on  reaching  the  wreck  such  a 
rush  was  made  by  the  frantic  passengers  to  enter 
their  boat  that  she  was  swamped,  and  the  whole 
crowd  was  swallowed  in  the  scarcely  troubled  sea. 
William  and  Richard,  the  two  sons  of  Henry,  and 
their  sister  Matilda,  and  three  hundred  others, 
chiefly  persons  of  exalted  rank,  perished  on  this 
occasion. 

Nest  returned  to  Wales. 

She  had  gained  all  that  she  desired.  She  went 
at  once  to  Dynevor.  There  was  her  brother, 
Griffith,  who  had  done  much  to  restore  the 
ruinous  castle  of  his  fathers,  the  kings  of  Dyfed. 

"  Grififith,"  said  she,  "  I  have  done  what  I 
could.  For  thee,  free  pardon  and  reinstatement 
in  thy  principality — yet  is  it  not  to  be  a  kingdom, 
only  as  a  great  chiefdom.  The  King  undertakes 
to  suffer  no  more  English  or  Normans  to  enter 
our  country  and  carve  out  for  themselves  baronies 
therein.  Nor  will  he  send  into  it  any  more  Flem- 
ings. But  such  as  are  here  shall  remain,  and 
Norman,  Fleming,  and  Welshman  alike  shall  be 
under  his  scepter,  and  be  justly  ruled,  the  English 
by  their  own  laws,  the  Welsh  by  those  of  Rhodric 
Dda."  She  looked  round  and  saw  Pabo,  "  and 
for  thee — return  thou  to  Caio  and  thy  Archpriest- 


274  PABO,  THE  PRIEST 

hood — and  to  thy  wife.  Let  Bernard  look  to  it. 
The  King  will  not  forget  the  story  of  thy  being 
consumed  with  fire  from  Heaven  for  having 
knocked  out  one  of  the  bishop's  teeth.  And  now, 
Grififith,  give  me  the  armlet  of  Maxen  Wledig. 
We  have  both  deserved  well  of  our  country." 


THE  END. 


?^3 


^  V 


DATE  DUE 

GAYLORD 

r«:NTEO  IN  U.S    *. 

UCSOUTHERPJ 


A    >. 


